Roadwork

Noise lots of it

And bright flashing lights

Large orange and black signs

Heralding the onslaught of work yet to come

Big loud trucks, motors grating

The incessant beep beep sound

Of backing trucks

Filled with all manner

Of materials

That promise improvement

Some are dirty, messy, strong of smell

And the work looks like it will be

Hot, tiring, no fun

But a promise has been made

You will wait

You will see

Maybe something can be salvaged

From this wreck of a road

Each day you watch from your window

Coffee in hand

Unaware

That you are barely breathing

As the days pass

You begin to see small changes

Day after day you watch

Breath held, fingers gripped

Around the handle of your mug

Coffee getting cold

As the weeks pass

The changes become more discernable

Until one day

You notice

A ssmooth patch of black tar

Where before there’d been crumpled black top

Making it a jarring, uncomfortable ride

After that

The work goes quickly

And as the stifling heat of Summer

Gives way to the chill warmth of Autumn

All work stops

And

You find yourself

Standing at the window

Coffee cup in hand

Fragrant steam arising

From its porcelain depths