Labor Day is a We Poem

Our work, all our work
whatever it is we do
to earn a living
or because
we have no choice because we are poems
every one of us all our work
putting cans of peas
on the Price Chopper shelf
taking a photograph of the woman
with one leg delivering
mail she’s
making sure we get
a handwritten letter from Aunt
Ruthie in a nursing home all those people
taking care of Ruthie in the nursing home
giving her baths and meals
making her laugh even though
she doesn’t remember why
Paul who mows lawns and chain smokes
when he stands behind the barn
Paul is working so is Roman
the dishwasher at Betty’s Luncheonette
in Leeds New York if we could understand
how it is that all the jobs we do
are part of one big job how small
and large make up the whole of life
how work is always we.

Esther Cohen
Let me tell you why I'm here, and why I hope you'll join me. I am here to poem, to play with words, to tell stories when I can, and to ask you for yours. Words are what I love, how I see, and what I say. Words are how I know my life, and how I find my friends. I'm here to ask you to join me. Right here. To send me your stories, and your poems. And to read mine when you can.


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