THEY’RE PORTUGESE

Tiles of clay
Upon the roofs
One by one
And two by two. 

Master crafters
Climb so high
Birds of prey
Just pass them by.

Scorching sun
Pouring rain 
They make repairs
They don’t complain.

They stop for lunch
A bowl of soup
A cigarette
At times will do.

Coffee strong
Sunlight bright 
Days go by
In warm sunlight.

 Lots of laughs
Cheers for friends
They gather together
Again and again.

A soccer game 
On Friday nights
An ice cold beer 
Makes  their whole night. 

A cooler filled
With shrimp and cod
They love their fish
Stone crabs and scrod. 

Hands are calloused
Hearts are soft
More work to come 
Their fingers crossed. 

Belief in God
Their cherished rule
Taught long ago
To use their tools.

Fathers, sons
Moms and girls
Portugal
A different world.

__________________

Google Images. Airtasker.

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Author: Patty Richardson

Writer: Film scripts, poetry, short stories and songs.

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