At the Lumber Store at Seven in the Morning
At the lumber store, they come at the same Time each day,
Regular as school buses.
All facing the same way like a parade;
All pickups huddled in the dark lot.
It is the real deal just beside the river,
Far from the superstore across town.
These are the fixers.
They wear ball caps over bald spots
And still talk about the football team
Being unbeaten, until the final game.
These men are the backbone of these mountains like miners.
I go in to buy a quart
Of paint and feel like I am in church.
A place orderly as a row of pews. A place
Where men take communion.
Share
Print
Save
Follow
Be always safe,
Karen
Ron
Edwin
The imagery you utilize takes the reader where you want them to be; well done.
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.