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Noon Hour

Rating: 2.7

She sits in the dust at the walls
And makes cigars,
Bending at the bench
With fingers wage-anxious,
Changing her sweat for the day's pay.

Now the noon hour has come,
And she leans with her bare arms
On the window-sill over the river,
Leans and feels at her throat

Cool-moving things out of the free open ways:
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Michael Walker 28 October 2019

He writes of a hardworking woman who makes cigars in a factory, sweating to earn her wages. But when the lunch break arrives, she can look out the window and dream of freedom. 'The free open ways' are a contrast to the closed factory. Very impressive.

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Jane Moon 15 May 2009

Saandburg's compassion for the hard working poor shows here, in the form of the cigar maker toiling under sad conditions indoors among the dust and drear. With respite comes the hint of fresh, clean air and the cool delights of freedom - which she cannot manage to afford. She may dream on, however.

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