January 27, 2022. "The Noisy Mill" by Ed Pacht
The old bard dozes in his own bedroom
in the mill by the riverside.
He falls asleep and dreams and hears
the sounds of a working day.
The wheels that turn, the belts that flap,
the looms that pound and shake and bang,
and take the wool that now is yarn
and make it into cloth,
and from that cloth the blankets come,
and fabric for the woolen coats
that gather warmth against the cold
of these New England winters.
The men, the women, youngsters too,
labor day by day,
amid the noise, the heat, the cold,
worn down, sometimes hurt,
used up by the mill’s demands,
and yet they live by that toil.
The old bard dozing in his own bedroom
remembers that terrible noise,
remembers the workers who filled that place,
remembers the city they built.
The old bard in his own bedroom
remembers the dream he dreamed
and wakes
with a thankful mind.
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