Worker, NYC (A Sonnet)
in tension like a tightened fist
clenched on plastic bags of putrid stench,
passive strength in every muscle stressed,
detached from thoughts of bitter penitence.
Lifting loads of rotten refuse straining
on hot and frigid days in urban streets,
breathing toxic fumes without complaining,
while holding high his head to all he meets.
providing means for life,
though bringing home the odor of decay,
is greeted by his children and his wife
whose embrace brings such pleasure that he may
be free of pity for his weariness.
His children's honor is his life's success.
© 2004 Richard Sidy