(04/20/2016 National Poetry Month HitRECord challenge)
Clustered in a pack of six
around the seventh,
stood down in the hole
twisting that damn pipe thing
tirelessly,
The road crew, for one moment,
look so solemn in their day-glo vests,
as if, at any second,
the chief amongst them
will lift his head
and proclaim,
Brethren, let us pray.
Here rests Down-In-The-Hole Jerry
Gone on to his penance,
Fer not bringin' the donuts
Like he was supposed ta'.
Help him, O Lord.
Amen.
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