While this is not my usual wordplay,
I wish to engage in some thoughts
Considering our quality of air we breathe.
We were talking about our warehouse air,
Sometimes it is nice and brisk and clear.
This would be around the shipping docks,
Bright and early morning.
Mid-morning has broken,
Cool air shifts and brings
Waves of muggy,
Humid, hot “windless” air.
It is dusty and dirty,
Sometimes you see hanging particles,
Actually view cardboard dust,
Dirt from vehicles, hampers and boxes.
Blessed to have our jobs,
Not complaining as we feel it,
“Could be worse:”
Think about sitting as a lifeguard,
Breathing in chlorine wafting off the pool.
Think about the mothers in past lives,
Sweeping and trying to keep dust managed,
Where their floors were made of dirt.
Picture men trudging early darkened morn’s,
Boarding carts traveling underground,
To coal mines deep, black as midnight.
Picture the history of slavery,
Present long days of migrant…
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