simple plan, booted crew high as trees,
shovels toss the old tar paper,
hammers tack the dry hope in place.
noon sun bolts through the gathering clouds,
a green circle of thermos rests at an impossible angle
to the ground.
A length of ladder equals someone's prayer,
we reach for heaven sensing safety
is just above our sight line.
It starts from the ground up,
this work of walking tall,
where it ends, depends
on the hours we put in,