Man Hole

When I see them huddled
around a man hole 
or a fresh dug ditch
with bits of asphalt fractured
and falling their orange vests blazing
beneath the sun. I can't help
but want to be
in their midst.

My hard hat fastened
to my head, leaning on a shovel
or a steel box that conceals
wires and pipes and who knows
what else that only they
have the keys to.

I can't help but want
to grow a beard and speak
their language, so unknown to me
or just be with them as we peer
deeply down into that darkness
that penetrates the earth.


Originally written on October 14, 2016. I've mad only minor changes to this draft. I consider this unfinished but I think there are some really great possibilities here.