The Roofers Across the Street
 
Slim straightens and bows his back 
hands on hips, pelvis prowed forward, 
scrinches a grimace beneath his 
sweat-stained, work-battered Stetson. 
Shorty, sitting to suck a breath, 
says something. Slim swipes a sleeve 
under his nose, replies and laughs. 
Shorty whips off his cowboy hat 
and slaps it against his thigh 
flaunting his bald head in the sun’s face. 
Slim’s left leg paws for a stirrup, 
the phantom horse turns, and he tumbles 
to the roof. Rolling down the pitch 
his hat flies from his weathered-grey head. 
He lodges against Shorty near the roof’s edge. 
They laugh so hard it’s a wonder 
they don’t roll off. Like old shingles 
years fall from them and spill 
over the eaves until the two are youths again. 
When they each catch their breath, 
they will scurry down the ladder 
and chase after their runaway horse.
 
 
Geordie de Boer, a rambler and writer of fiction and poetry, lives in
Washington State where he continues to be trained by his two pugs,who
are aging gracefully alongside him.