Migrants

Under the discerning sun,
we have assigned you great heights,
the labyrinth of scaffolding your career ladder
we wouldn’t imagine climbing.
When the idea of death, or worse,
the half death of paralysis
you have seen other brothers fallen into
seem too much, you lay
another brick with mathematical precision
a few thousand times,
its mechanical repetition to pace fear.

Still you advance
in numbers, increasing by the years
pawning land and adjourning family
until success, which is at best, equivocal.
But a promise is a promise,
the dhobis and rickshaw coolies made good in history,
a blueprint of possibilities.

We make proud
announcements of zero accidents and teach
that your safety comes first,
then the firm’s bankrupting risk penalty.
On bamboo poles you balance
danger with the love of who awaits back home.

In a shelter, I spoke to one of you whose
courage galvanizes, a lesson primed
in hardship.
Later you correct bravery with desperation,
they are not interchangeable.
Nevertheless you are
faithful for the third time.
A femur fracture and a back injury later could not
nail you home too long
before you are straightened,
walking back to something slightly lesser
than a dream.