they stopped at 10am,
called it peacy time;
came down from scaffolding,
up from ground holes,
off from ladders.
They would leave gloves and hard hats
on makeshift tables;
boards strung between perches.
Flasks poured hot tea,
rolls came out of boxes,
jokes were shared,
hands warmed.
Their peace hut was wherever
they could make it.
When a house was watertight,
the peace hut moved indoors.
Then, there was this one time,
when curly fries
were cooked in an oven, shared hot.
Tea mugs were washed in the dishwasher.
They reminisced of that day.