Make a Dime

Those early morning wake-ups

            trying to make a dime

Carrying shingles up a ladder

            two bundles at a time

Hear the ringing of the hammer

            the screaming of the saw

Walk across the scaffolding

            careful not to fall

Plywood roofs are slippery

            with early morning dew

Curse when I smash my finger

            get laughed at by the crew

That afternoon sun bears down

            my finger starts to throb

Still loving all the memories

            of my first summer job.  

Reviews

[Terpsichore]

My first proper summer job was working at a stables and the abiding memory is of being told how useless I was at everything I did by the irritable old bugger who owned the place.

Must have done something right though, because I still got paid and I was kept on for the whole of the six weeks holidays.

Fond memories indeed.

T

[TheOneWhoNotices]

Flowed wonderfully! A great write!

[...]

Hi James :) My brother did trim carpentry and masonry work. This reminded me of all his stories he told about being on the job. This is simply poetic and delightful to read. A poem about real living :) Great work

[James]

Thanks, Lynn. I worked construction growing up with my dad I guess some of it stuck. Glad you enjoyed it.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

you take such normal things and make them so poetical....

love this slice of life...

j.

[James]

Thank you, Jacob. I am glad you like this. It's kind of a fun way to remember things.

[Woody]

that dime you made at your first summer job must have been sweeter than what you make today.
your poems about mundane things are touching, James. I like this one, too.

you wrote latter. did you mean ladder?

[James]

Yes, thank you, I meant latter. And thank you for your review. Always good to see you my friend.

[James]

No I mean I meant ladder. Thaks for the correction