I got my permit to poo.
Then surprisingly quickly got a permit to build.
I dug a four foot deep hole
For the newly crafted temporary power pole.
The machines finally came back
To move the earth.
Once more.
But then it started to pour.
The fog rolls in
and out.
I am trying to build a house in the clouds.
I keep trying to feel a firm connection to this process,
To see some real progress.
The four foot deep hole for my temporary pole
Got filled
But not with the power pole.
A stack of lumber came home today
In the driving rain
To form forms for foundations
Forms for cement pads for gas tanks
And step landings.
It sits in my truck. Wet.
The satellite internet
Can fade away in a storm
Disappear altogether
Get lost in the clouds.
I started reading the manuals
About the weeds and the bugs
For a North Carolina Pesticide Applicators License
And faded away too.
The fog and the mist turned an eerie glowing orange.
The rain slowed, considered stopping.
The sunset was perhaps
The most sun that had been seen all day.
I have lumber.
I have my power pole, my plans and my permit.
It has been pleasantly cool.
May we please dig the footings
For my cozy little cabin soon?
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2 comments:
Is it okay if we post comments in prose? Things are moving very fast. For all that fog, you could be living in San Francisco.
You must feel like you are right at home! Living in the clouds will have some advantages. You are getting close to heaven! Beautiful sunset.
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