Children of Sisyphus

Each day we push the rock
our father left behind.
Following the well worn path
his heels dug in valley and hills,
we push that round boulder
all day long,
grunt and strain muscles
in the sun,

knowing when the whistle blows,
and we go home to rest,
it will roll back down,
guaranteeing employment
for the rest of our lives
and maybe of our descendents.

It is a hard existence,
but at least we have job security.
In these uncertain times,
that means a lot,
easing the dismay
as we crush the bodies
of those fallen
along the path
beneath our stone.

—Joseph Farley, Philadelphia, PA