Oh you open mouth of yawning darkness that I approach,
With face mask and goggles and knee guards in place,
And a flyswatter in hand,
...just in case.

Up into that area of darkness and heat,
While bracing my New Balances attached to my feet.
I dimly view wood rafters angled above,
Silent witnesses to the Kraft-faced R-19 and R-30
That I roll and I shove.

I feel like a dung beetle rolling its prize,
of Big, pink containers so great in size,
On the tar-paper road of the attic’s spine,
To reach that distant other side, that’s fine.

Then, lo and behold, I can’t believe my eyes!
I see a tiny white light on the distant far side!
‘I must be dead’ was my very first thought,
and died between attic entrance and the R-19 we had bought,
‘Come to the Light’ a deep voice called to me,
as slowly I moved forward on knee-guarded knees,
My breathing was fast, my eyeguards went foggy,
As I crawled toward that light, my clothes sweaty-soggy.

“I’m coming, I’m coming! Please wait for me!”
Pleaded I to the light through my stifling mask,
as I Crawled through the attic, a difficult task.

As I neared that white light, it suddenly occurred,
Something wasn’t quite right,
Something frankly absurd!,
Why did my bladder, part of physical being...
Warn me that soon I’d need to be p_ _ing!

It was at that moment of pure clarity,
I realized DH had turned on the ‘drop light’ for us to see.
Packages of insulation stacked hither and yon,
Rolls of pink containers like giant bon-bons.

Of pushing and pulling and cutting to size,
Of rolling and placing the fluffy pink gauze.
It took a week,
but we can smilingly speak,
“It’s complete!”