tacking tiles

the roofers, hurrying
before the rain comes,
before the sunlight fades.
walking unafraid
across the slant
of steep roofs,
tacking each tile into place.
no ropes, no life lines,
they keep at it, up
and down the ladders.
carrying a new box up.
throwing the old
down. it's a day
of work they savor,
the hard pay,
ignoring the edge,
the fall, the ground
which will catch them
and snatch their
life away.