is out,
the water too,
they're digging in the street
again.
a dozen
men
in orange vests
and white
hats
are standing with
their shovels
about to begin.
the machinery purrs
beside
the cracked road.
it's a days work
for them,
thankful,
grateful for the watermain
break,
the power lines
being snapped
in a violent storm
last night.
whereas
i feel differently
about it
pouring bottles
of spring water upon
myself
for a shower
by candlelight.
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