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 once upon a time

Working reflections 


Screech of drilling, thudding of hammers

All sounds, that once made up my life.

I hear the same sounds as I sit in my car

Today they have no relevance to me.


Homes being converted now mean wages

for another person. All I do is sit and listen

as I wait patiently to drive a friend home.

Although I do reminiscence about old times.


Remembering the thud of tools tossed into 

the car boot at the end of the day. Hard times

worthwhile times, but now, those times are

reflected in the lines etched upon my face.

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