|     Warriors    
   You dwarf the
words of the poet: you,    the warriors of
Stella D'Oro.    For the best I
might ever do    is recount this
story which your deeds             
            have already written.    
   The end, it
seems, was composed by others—    who have more
power but less humanity.    A toast,
therefore, to all still holding    heads high,
proud of their humanity.    For this is the
common cause any poet    might share with
those who fight             
            for justice.    
   Each one of you
will always have    your humanity:
the many-thousand acts,    small and large,
of sacrifice and sharing,    the comradeship,
the sheer magnitude of what             
            you have achieved.     
   Not one crossed
the picket line. No,            
            not one.    
   For
these things can never be taken away    no matter how
much equipment    is dismantled,
moved to another state—   just as the poet
will always    have the written
word, even if    our world might
not be ready yet            
            to listen.    
   It seems you
spoke too soon, you   the warriors of
Stella D'Oro,    before our world
was ready to listen.    Still, I refuse
to lose heart, assert    that one day the
bosses and billionaires    will spend a
little time of their own    on the
unemployment line—after    the working
people of New York City             
            have taken control.     
   And then we will
turn that old building    in the Bronx
(you know, the one that used to be   the Stella D'Oro
bakery) into a must-see    destination,
marked on every    tourist map, a
shrine which pilgrims    can visit in
their millions to learn,    remember, offer
a tribute    to your
struggle—writing, thereby,    an alternative
ending to the story             
            of Stella D'Oro.    
   And the poem
that you have composed for us   during this
strike year of 2008/2009 will touch    their hearts as
each one listens to its words—   overflowing with
your humanity, the many-thousand    acts of
sacrifice and sharing, the comradeship,    the sheer
magnitude of what one,             
            small,                       
            courageous    work-place was
able to achieve            
            and finally understand.    
   Yes, each one of
them will,            
            finally,understand.
 
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