Ed Werstein
Dangling in Mid-Air
I suppose once you are ten feet off the ground,
another hundred feet or so doesn’t make a big difference,
but how do they get to that, these iron workers
I watch high above the sidewalk, welders and riveters
trusting the crane operator’s ability to place
the girder exactly where they need it
without knocking them from their catwalk,
wrangling the girders into place,
standing on yesterday’s work and trusting
its worth with their lives?
At break time some sit up there,
lunch pail beside them on the girder,
feet dangling in mid-air. Down on the street
life goes on, oblivious to the show above them.
For those that do stop and look up
it’s like watching a circus act for free.
Step right up! See the death-defying iron workers
high above you, taming and shaping
the wild flying girders into a new skyline.
Watch the hard-hatted men and women perform
on the girders and catwalks in a coordinated sky dance!
Iron workers risk their lives, architects take the credit.
Architects plan, iron workers execute.
Architects are seldom killed on the job,
iron workers die every day.
I’m ashamed that I can name several architects,
but don’t know the names of the iron workers
who died building the baseball park I attend.
A statue of the team’s owner stands at the main gate.
The ironworkers memorial, like an afterthought,
is out near the parking lot.