Midday sun pulls sweat from his aching back
He expells a hum, unfolds to the sky
Hat brim hides laugh lines that enclose his eyes
Left foot corrals the olive drab knapsack.
Two swallows of water, he shakes his hands
Three feet away from the edge of the knoll
Turns to hoist a slab of lavender stone
Winking at noon from a wide quartz band.
Boulder hustled into a perfect place
My brother resumes creating the square
A surround for rustic table and chair
Centered in that freshly green sodded space.
With a strum of strings and one whiskey neat
He'll sing to his world from a hard rock seat.