Greener Pastures?

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Photo Credit: Daniel Frese

They marched in line
To construction jobs
That were woefully behind.
The Siberian winds severing patience,
The cold cracking skin.

“B’yus’ ob zaklad, eto nikogda ne proiskhodit v Amerike.”

They thought their squaller
That was corrupted
By business men working for the government
Could never happen in America.

A world away…

They walked together
To construction jobs
That were getting done on union time.
The Center City winds slowing the work,
The cold an excuse to catch a smoke.

“I bet this never happens in Russia.”

They never thought of their freedom
Corrupting their ethic
To work for the business paying them
Would ever be allowed in Russia.

Plights worn out…