Читать книгу Other Seasons - Harold J. Recinos - Страница 26

this woman has worked the morning

cutting zippers on a press without a

break, beads of sweat dripping from

her brow, and the hands that buttoned

her daughter’s Catholic school white

blouse, with dirt now beneath the nails.

quietly, she sees the dust on the factory

floor kicked up by the feet of the supervisor

with a cracked voice who for the last twenty

years has waited for a different job. she has

moved around the dim rooms of this work

place with a long list of nameless wage workers

who drank themselves to death. in her eyes you

can see the last shift sweetly rising and a closer

look discloses her long brown hands gently

lifted with piety to heaven for joy to come.

the other dust like her working the assembly line

with dreams of what lies ahead will soon see

not many more days will keep them from the

place this woman’s yearning soul visits for light.

quietly, after work she returns to the little girl sent

to school, the shared love, words and a delicious

single mom life.