The struggle for equality is—
Having a place to just sleep safely
Or a square meal to eat each day
To walk in the moonlight unafraid
With the innocence of a child
To look upon the new neighbors
And be glad they are there
The train’s whistle echoes down the valley green.
A bell sounds clear in a scene of icicles.
Freight cars slamming, bang as they shift.
Clickety-clack wheels screech on the curve
Quaking the earth as it passes me by.
Lights go on, motors are started, clock alarms slammed.
A garage door squeaks protest to moving.
An angry driver squeals the tires
As he rushes out, angry at whom or what?
Eighteen-wheelers elbow pick-up trucks
To rush deliver today’s city needs.
A rattling sound at a nearby mine:
Coal chuting down to load the hauling cars.
China breaking on the ice:
Discards dumped at chinaware mill.
A grindstone whines as it burnishes the steel.
Bright orange-red flares light up the sky
As the Bessemer furnace clears its throat.
Cans rattle and jam on the assembly lines
Punctuated by staccato cannon fire
From the seamless tubing mill as rolling mills groan.
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