Continuance
Algae green, overgrown, frogs gather en masse at the base
to bear witness to what continues,
what remains of the human race--
What remains to testify to an overabundance of opulence and status?
As Labor Day approaches, whose labor do we celebrate--
the farmworker laboring in the field to provide the food we eat?
The manufactory worker who pieces together and assembles our clothes,
our appliances, our vehicles?
The one who cares for our children or who prepares one of our beloved family members for bed?
The postal worker who doesn't know if they will have a job or mailboxes will be carted away?
The teachers who don't know what lies ahead for them, their families or our families?
The nurse who holds the hand of our loved one who is dying without our ability to be close at hand?
It seems Labor Day used to be the simplest of holidays to celebrate
But now we are divided into camps where some labor is especially appreciated
while other's are indispensable and vulnerable.
Here in the midst of this decaying fountain and this forest thicket,
I ponder Labor and its meaning now--what continues?
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