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By Thomas R. Thomas

riding in Daddy’s truck
on my knees, face pressed
against the window

watching the cars pass
red and white lights
shining in the dark sky

the truck bounces on
the dirt as it rolls
up to the trailer

I fall out of the cab
and stare as the men
lumber past me

keeping their language
clean as they see a
little boy on the job site

I stare as the sun
peeks out at the
flat slabs and

skeleton frames of
the houses rising
from the ground

I take a sip of
Daddy’s black coffee
steaming from the cup

as Daddy pores over
the large sheets
of blueprints

I stare at the dark
blue lines. Daddy takes
notes on his yellow pad

the blueprints still
smell of ammonia
I breath it in

the coffee truck
honks its horn
Daddy hands me a dollar

I give Daddy the change
and his glazed donut
I sit on a box of nails

munching my donut
sipping my chocolate
milk watching Daddy

later I float sticks
down the little lake
the puddle in the mud

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