Brick Mason's Daughter
My dad is a brick mason and so were my 2 grandfathers so it’s easy to say I would
know a thing or two about laying brick. It has surely come in handy a few times in
my life and each time I’ve had to use that knowledge; I have become smarter,
quicker, more experienced. With each job, the joints look more clean, the foundation
more sturdy, are larger than the last, more effective, rising higher and higher. I have
found that some jobs were unnecessary and the walls would need to be torn down.
But as I get more under my belt, those walls are harder to tear down. The last wall
to come down started slowly, very tedious work, back-breaking, brow
sweating….many man hours went into what eventually resulted in a massive wall to
come crashing down… covering everything around it in a cloud of dust. It was a
most victorious day and well worth the hard labor. The land was cleared of debris
and life began to flourish where the wall once stood. But I’ve been out of work for a
while, no need for any walls to be built….until now. I thought my mason days would
be over and I could hang up my trowel….retire from this laborious job that has took
such a toll on me over the years. But now a wall is needed and it is time to dust of
the tools handed down to me from a father to his daughter….trowel, level, jointer,
and brush. This project is my biggest yet and will require much attention to details
to ensure that it will withstand just about any force of nature. That it will stand rigid,
unbreakable, firm. I dread the hours that this will require, the aches and pains my
body will endure for this enormous wall….a wall that no one will be able to rappel
over, with numerous defensives, so high and well-built that it will intimidate anyone
who dares to think twice about seeing what’s on the other side….a wall long
enough to encase a small city so that those who rest inside will sleep peaceful at
night with no worries of invasion. As I gather my tools together, I realize I had
forgotten how heavy those mortar mix bags were. Funny…you usually never forget
that or the effort that goes into mixing mortar. But I had forgotten. I start going
over the blueprints, going over the knowledge that has been passed down to me
and what I have acquired by experience….building my confidence up for that task
that lays before me. It’s time..yes I believe I’m ready to start my footer. As my
shovel strikes the dirt…I wonder if this is the beginning or the end of my career as a
brick mason’s daughter.
Copyright © A Rambling Righting Riley - Shauna Riley | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment