He rose at the peep of dawn

And watched the sleepy sun

Take off her blanket

His hard, black face

Bore a semblance of satisfaction

Rarely seen

Softening the cracks zig-zagging across it

He won’t be at his job site today

No, today he won’t be at that blistering, dusty place

For on this day, his son leaves the big school

He is going to watch his boy

Walk down the line with his classmates

Yes, today his eye will behold

The outer workings of a promise fulfilled

His eye.

The other long since blinded by

The fire spark of iron striking iron

Leaving a leaky mess in his once handsome face

Nevertheless, he will behold.

His heart twists in him at the thought of Edith

Who isn’t here to see the boy in his big black dress and funny, flat hat.

She isn’t here to gaze upon his beautiful countenance,

So like hers

And cry….

She was sentimental

He runs his thumb-less hand across her face staring back at him

From the faded photograph sitting on the bedside table

The thumb

Long since pulverized beneath the weight

Of the rock crusher’s hammer

It had not been easy

One score years and then some

Season after season

He had woken up ’fore day and trudged to that field of rocks

Leaning into the chilly wind that seemed to hold a grudge for him

It had been hard

But year in and year out he went

His mind fixed on his labor of love

Propelled by the promise

And, as the work slowly crippled him

He had watched the boy grow

Strong, sturdy and smart

Now, though with body bent and broken

Misshapen and gnarled,

His spirit stands tall and proud

‘Our son has finished school, Edith,’ he whispers.