Roof Man

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


Roof Man


 

From the eighteenth green he may seem insignificant
atop the clubhouse roof. But suppose he’s someone,
beloved or discarded. Brown-skinned and glistening
in the August sky, he shoulders up a roll of tar—
blistering weight. His halfback legs lift him toward 

the sun before it falls beyond the tennis courts.

Injured in his final college game, the NFL took 

a pass on his prospects. Despite the lack of mercy 
in his present altitude, his strides are long and fluid, 
12 hours a day, to support his family. See him
crouched up there, hammering, not yet knowing his wife 
has found a man of means to provide for their little girl.

When he finds the compulsory note on the kitchen table
in his newly forsaken home, he may use the .45 in the closet
or rope and rafters in the garage. But should he bear, now,
the weight of her affair, we all may catch his fall—
not a graceless slip and tumble but a running dive
from his peak into the shallows of the country club pool.

 


Submitted: October 17, 2020

© Copyright 2020 allenmw. All rights reserved.

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Comments

Steven P. Pody

As we used to quote from a TV show: "There are 8 million stories in the Naked City, and this is one of them." Nice poem accentuating that every life has a tale.

Sat, October 17th, 2020 6:46pm

Author
Reply

Thanks for reading. I appreciate your recognition of what I'm trying to do with this poem, which is really about my younger brother. Years after he ended his life, I saw a regal-looking man standing on a neighbor's roof. I wondered about his story.

Sat, October 17th, 2020 2:22pm

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