DECEMBERS
Here I can look out on the world from
my office window,
at the cold December snowy rain.
I feel the heat of the room where my tie
closes the shirt around my neck.
Cup of coffee in hand, I gaze at the
seasonal decorations that brighten
my cubicle world of
steel and plastic, computers and
conditioned air.
Away from there, I hate it when my feet are wet,
when my hammer hits my cold finger
working in a tight place, bound in four layers
of clothes to keep warm...
the sawdust in my eyes...
the whipping wind...
I hear it's song.
The eagle hangs in the sky looking below for
food on the edge of the woods where
treasures of a new world are hidden.
As a fleeing ray of sun warms my face,
I realize I enjoy working
in the cold December mud.
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