Wednesday, June 08, 2011

Si Kahn

Aragon Mill

At the east end of town
At the foot of the hill
There's a chimney so tall
It says Aragon Mill.

But there's no smoke at all
Coming out of the stack
For the mill has shut down
And is never coming back.

And the only tune I hear
Is the sound of the wind
As she blows through the town
Weave and spin, weave and spin.

There's no children playing
In the dark narrow streets
And the loom has shut down
It's so quiet I can't sleep.

The mill has shut down
'twas the only life I know
Tell me where will I go
Tell me where will I go.

And the only tune I hear
Is the sound of the wind
As she blows through the town
Weave and spin, weave and spin.

I'm too old to work
And I'm too young to die
Tell me where will I go now
My family and I.

-Sy Kahn

2 comments:

James said...

A beautiful poem, so poignant, posted in response to the Alice Mill fire I am sure. I am so sorry to hear about that fire and the loss of the mill, Emily! Have you noticed - of course you have, because you notice everything - how very very many smokestacks rose above New England Mill towns, not that long ago, certainly in our youth, but even only twenty, twenty-five years ago. Then, right when I came of age and looked upon them with a romantic nostalgia, for I come from a family of blue collar workers in New Jersey, they started disappearing, one by one. Now the lucky ones that are left can be claimed by loft housing developments, the name on the stack becomes a new brand, an identity for people who like to trade in icons of the past like so many hipster trading cards. "Live at Aragon Mills! Free Wi-Fi!"
Alice MIlls R.I.P.

Urban Mermaid said...

James,
Thanks for writing. The Red Clay Ramblers do an amazing version of this song.
-Emily