work

Reaching Lowell filled me with excitement; the puffing smoke covered the landscape of the city creating an ominous feeling. The boarding houses that were for the single women workers was tucked away from the main street, adding privacy to our life that was centered around work. The city’s features were so different compared to the Massachusetts countryside, the bustle and business surrounded us everyday instead of the silent farming fields. When I reached the boarding house it was just after nightfall, the other women workers were chatting in the parlor or arranging their bedrooms. My room was snug with three other girls living in it, each having a different personality and reason for coming to Lowell. The ring of bells signaled the start of my first work day as all the workers walked briskly through the gate to make sure of not being late, since we were all so grateful of our jobs.

The tinny sound of someone laughing
Drifts lazily across the room to my ears
And the barely perceptible whispered snatches
Of snide comments are all that it seems I can hear
A flip of bleached hair and the flash of a mirror
Invade my peripheral vision and blur
Just because you have finished before the bell
Doesn't mean that the rest of us don't have work

Sitting here doing paper work,
I’ll I can think about is you,
Your eyes,
Your hair,
Your everything.
So much is spinning
And twirling,
And overly distracting me
From my job.
But…
I don’t mind.
Love is a good thing to be distracted with.
Love,
And joyful daydreams
Of you.

I’ve lost track of they days…
Rise in the morning, and work, for countless hours.
Why do I?
I ask myself this at times.
To tell the truth, I don’t have an answer anymore.
But it is all I know, and will know.
The machines, the work, the dust.
It is all I know.