a simpler time some would say,
but not so for those who lived it,
for those who’s hands cracked and bled.
for those who’s backs ached to create fine
wool, china, and hand carved wooden
tool handles, it was not a fond memory.
we see the past through our own eyes
colored by our romanticism of what
we believe, while knowing nothing of it.
the beauty of depression glass and
hand painted china, of riveted steel
and fire wrought iron to dress our homes.
the voices and the tears and sweat of
those who came before us would tell us
of the trials and sorrows of their lives,
and say, a simpler time? what you don’t
know of us could fill a library, go
home, read, study and think on this.