the man water.
it's ninety-nine degrees
in the sun
as he strings cable wire
from my house
to some underground
hole
beyond the fence.
he's wearing a uniform
and a company
cap,
so i guess he's trained
and knows what he's
doing.
back and forth to the truck
he goes
for a tool,
for more wire,
more things he needs
to get the job done.
i see him out the window,
as i sit on the cool
couch with remote
in hand, waiting for life
to begin
again.
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