Unemployed

Men slouching on park benches, drowsing.
Men listlessly waiting in bread lines, muttering
The factory closed!-hard times-depression'
Men grouping at the general merchandise store.
Men standing in corners sulking in the sun
Damning their fate-frost-drought-insects
Where are the women?
They are in little rooms, in huts, in tents.
Washing-scrubbing-mending-cooking
Rocking babies-nursing babies-soothing babies.
No machine can rob them of their work.
No one wishes to take their places.
Their hours can not be shortened.
Their wages can not be lowered.
They work at the trade that knows no unemployment.
The homely trade of Motherhood.

-Rosa Zagnoni Marinoni