Marjorie Allen Seiffert

From “Gallery of Paintings”

THE SHOP is red and crimson. Under the forge

Men hold red bars of iron with black iron tongs.

It crashes—sparks spatter out; it crashes again, again.

At last the iron is bent as it belongs.

Swedes, Norwegians, Poles or Greeks—they are men:

They grin when they please, look ugly when they please;

They wear black oakum in their ears for the noise;

They know their job, handle their tools with ease.

Their eyes are clean and white in their black faces;

If they like, they are surly, can speak an ugly no;

They laugh great blocks of mirth, their jokes are simple;

They know where they stand, which way they go.

If I wore overalls, lost my disguise

Of womanhood and youth, they would call me friend;

They would see I am one of them, and we could talk

And laugh together, and smoke at the day’s end.