Two Songs of Labor

Dust of the feet
And dust of the wheels,
Wagons and people going,
All day feet and wheels.

Now...
...Only stars and mist
A lonely policeman,
Two cabaret dancers,
Stars and mist again,
No more feet or wheels,
No more dust and wagons.

Voices of dollars
And drops of blood
.  .  .  .  .
Voices of broken hearts,
...Voices singing, singing,
...Silver voices, singing,
Softer than the stars,
Softer than the mist.

Passers-by,
Out of your many faces
Flash memories to me
Now at the day end
Away from the sidewalks
Where your shoe soles traveled
And your voices rose and blent
To form the city's afternoon roar
Hindering an old silence.

Passers-by,
I remember lean ones among you,
Throats in the clutch of a hope,
Lips written over with strivings,
Mouths that kiss only for love.
Records of great wishes slept with,
Held long
And prayed and toiled for..
 
Yes,
Written on
Your mouths
And your throats
I read them
When you passed by.