Labor Day, 2026

Labor Day isn’t just about jobs. It's about the unseen work of staying human while society throws darts. This poem sits in that truth.

On a chaotic Labor Day, I write through the noise, refusing the darts and choosing the calm labor of thought instead.

Labor Day, 2026

A quiet worker’s stand against chaos

I sat on my chair, breathing the damp air,

 Rain Coming Down,

 Down, down, down

 all around,

 the sound of chaos

 across the world.

No signs of peace,

so, I give it a swirl,

Relief of working

 with people who agitate,

people who project,

throw virtual darts.

I lay here on Labor Day,

 2026,

the misunderstanding of work

 of a thinking nature,

 putting words on the Word app,

of the gap in the society of bullies who rule.

But I do not.

I do not bend.

I do not break.

 I do not carry their chaos.

I let the rain take it,

 wash the darts into the gutter,

 leave me with only the quiet work

 the kind done in the mind,

the kind no bully can ever claim.

My labor is thought.

My crown is calm.

 And on this Labor Day,

I choose the work they cannot touch.

I sit alone

in my home

so alone

at 77

but I am not alone.

I have my techie stuff

That certain workers

hate about me

so be it

I am positive

but when I constantly

feel darts penetrating

my person

I move away

from the darts

of non progressives

have a wonderful LABOR DAY

I wrote this

I typed this in word

I

typed this on Vocal.

Worker bees

so be, just be

Happy Labor Day 2026