Steeltown Woman

I am a steeltown woman.

I will no longer be ashamed of the dirt beneath my father’s nails
the used car in the driveway and the little 800 square foot house I grew up in,
cleaner than upper managements’ silver drawer.

Yeah,
I’m a steeltown woman.

I’ve lived with the doubles you can’t say no to,
the mill going black after a storm
and the swing shifts that mean you have to be quiet during the day
just to see your man that night.

Inland,
You may well have taken my father from me.
You might have even given me pause
when I thought about college,
sure that I wasn’t good enough,
or smart enough
to crawl out of your shadow.

But let me tell you something.

I AM
the dark figure of the BOF furnace,
transforming scrap, flux and lime into purified molten iron.

Take the raw materials of this dying steel town,
the gray faces staring out of the heavy greens of the mill,
The cold strip churning metal into the coils that crushed my father

And instead of bitter, rusted masses of forgotten industry
I am Picasso’s bird/women in Daley plaza
I am Miró's “Sun, Moon and One Star”

I am a steeltown woman.

--pandora
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There's powerful writing here, pandora. ...BR
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Awesome work! Bravo!!
-t
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Thanks everyone, I appreciate the comments. It's been awhile since I've posted here...

--pandora
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wELL, DON'T LET IT BEE ANY LONGER,Please give us more---RJ