Back For Renewals
Workman Abe always left his tools for you.
His hammer, his level, his wrench, his nails.
His electric drill, clamps, vice grips, screws too
Left them hither and yon, habit never fails.
From Timbuktu to Hackensack his stuff he lends.
Some called him up to give him back his stuff.
Unconcerned, he said that’s okay; keep them my friends.
Workman Abe simply did not care, his habits rough.
If he came back to do another job, of course he left his tools.
Knowing that you might call him back; worked well for renewals.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2020
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment