Day 115

Today's words:

Bed
Cube
Girders
Herb
Spike
Sled

I just want to stay in bed.
Outside it's colder than an ice cube.
I can see frost on the girders
Of the construction site next door. I wish there was an herb
I could take to spike
My temperature so I wouldn't feel so cold out on the sled.

Because I will have to go out on the sled
Today; I will have to leave my bed.
I'll leave my house, under the spike
Of an icicle. I guess it's better than sitting in a cube
All day in some office, but still - just me and Herb,
Up on those frozen girders.

When we first put up the girders
They had to be dragged in on a sled.
No other way over the ice, said Herb,
And he should know. He'd put more winter jobs to bed
Than anyone else. He liked the cold.  His heart was an ice cube
And he walked on the ice with a spike.

First there was just one spike
Sticking up alone, then as more girders
Were added, the building assumed a cube
Shape. More pieces brought in on the sled.
"Get out of bed,"
Said Herb,

"Time to get to work. Or are  you more the herb
"Tea type?" he asked, trying to spike
My temper so I'd jump out of bed
To go work on the girders,
Dragging the sled
Towards the cube.

In time that cube
Would become a building, but only Herb
Could see that now. I just dragged the sled,
Leaning on a spike
To gain purchase on the ice, as I headed towards the girders,
Wishing I were still in bed.

And from the cube there arose a new spike,
The start of the second story. Herb knew his girders.
And I knew a sled is not the same thing as a bed.