Liber Saturni - Chapter 10

Verses

I worked thirty-two years below ground and never met a planet, only rock that did not care about my opinions.

Lead dust gets into the cuffs. So does age. You notice both after the shift.

The foreman liked saying hardship builds character. Hardship mostly built his house faster than mine.

Still, there is a skill in placing your feet where the tunnel has not yet decided to fall.

My father called Saturn the worker's star. I called it a rich man's excuse for wages arriving late.

We carried weight because weight was there. Do not make a religion out of what had to be lifted.

A bent back can teach patience, but so can a chair.

When the cage descended, jokes got darker by level. At the bottom even death had a nickname.

One boy wore a black stone for luck. The stone survived him, which proved nothing.

I learned the dignity of labor from laborers, never from men praising labor.

The old planet may rule lead. Fine. Let it come collect the barrels.

If there is a harvest after suffering, show me the receipt.

Yet I admit this: things made slowly tended to hold.

A rushed brace snaps. A rushed promise snaps faster.

We buried three men in one winter. After that I stopped calling endurance a virtue and called it a fact.

At retirement my hands shook around a cup lighter than every tool I had used.

My granddaughter asked what I had learned. I said, Never stand under an unsupported ceiling.

She wanted wisdom. I repeated myself.

That is my scripture: test the roof before the hymn.