up on a roof

you find your way
to the roof,
forty feet up
and climb aboard.
the pitch is steep,
bends your ankles
against the black
shingles. the heat
seeps through your
shoes, shoots into
your angled knees.
you find a chimney
to hold on to,
a vent, a board
to balance yourself
as you move slowly
along the incline,
a brush in one
hand, a bucket
in the other.
it's a circus move,
a tightrope walk
along the peak.
your life is fragile,
you believe, as
a bird swings by
with a worm.