Reyes
on the roof
surveys the sunset
as the dregs of the day dissipate
into a city slowly going technicolor.
He looks upon the street below
and deems it good.
Reyes raises his can
and chugs.

“You worked hard today,”
he says
which is unfortunately untrue,
“You enjoying it?”
“I never thought I’d say that I liked drywall,” I reply,
and let it hang.

Reyes shrugs
takes a slug
and looks off.
He doesn’t care much
what I have to say
or think.
He just wants the hours I put in
and the work I do.

“You’re learning something, I think,”
he says.
“You think you’re learning something?”
I eye the belt he dropped to his side
with its drill bits
and hammer
and screws.

“I’m learning quite a bit,”
I reply,
“More than I thought.”