Unsung Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

Unsung



The Unsung
The bus home stopped at a fish factory, women entered
they had been working overtime and the smell of their
work was overpowering and I said nothing because this
was way my mother was reeked when I was a child.
The women were noisy as to demonstrating they right to
be here which they had. Low paid and no proper place
to have a shower they had to carry the small of a labour
for a week. And I understand them well I was fifteen before
knowing how a shower worked. Yet they are the people
that keep our coastal town alive., but in the town’s square
there is a statue of the man who started, and not a word
about the women who made his dream come true,
mother’s meagre income sending him to college.

Monday, May 11, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: workshop
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