New Construction Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Buildings new and bare, at a construction site on Thunderbird.
Buckets, tools, pipes, debri, lying everywhere, waiting to be
cleaned up.
Workers on roofs, hanging from ladders and scaffolds,
daredevily putting together wood and stucco, creating clusters
of apartments.
Talking, yelling, trudging through mounds of mud to reach the
doors of those already done.
Trucks parked haphazardly throughout the parking lot with
doors hanging open for easy access to depths of tools and
supplies within.
Landscapers attempting to place and straighten trees with
wire and pieces of hose tied to posts.
They look like they've been placed upon the rack and are
being stretched out of proportion.
Men walking around with bright orange safety jackets and
hard hats, intermittent spanish heard, teasing, cajoling,
trying to make the most of it in the hot morning sun.
Some apartments finally ready, awaiting the vinyl layers,
my son and husband, for the final touches on their new,
clean splendor.