In the time of textile mills
“It is a long time since I flapped mv wings,
a long time since I stood on the roof of my house
in Lawrence, Mass., or Michael's in No. Andover,
a little whiskey in one hand, the past slipping
through the other, a little closer to the heaven of
dreams ….
“From where we stood I could see the steeple of the French
church. Further back, it was 1912, and I could almost
see the tenements of the French women who worked
the fabric mills …
weaving the deadly dust into their lungs….’’
— From “The Angels of 1912 and 1972,’’ by Richard Jackson