Cobalt blue glass vase with white roses;
stained glass window set aflame by sunlight.
The beauty of crystalline silica.
Jose Reyes, my husband, father of four,
Edwardo Soto, husband, father of two,
Alberto Lara, husband, father of three:
Hard working men from Central America
dead from silicosis before the age of 40. Any of them
could have cut the stone counter in your kitchen.
Dust shot off the circular saw with a fury, Jose said,
coated the floor, our clothes, hair and locker shelves,
crept into every tiny passage of our lungs.
Just immigrants, not worthy of a mask,
not worthy of a water spray to control the dust.
silicosis: incurable, preventable.
After a decade cutting stone, he stopped for breath
every ten feet, then wheeled an oxygen tank
until his lungs could no longer make use of air.
When all the soft parts of his body
have found their way into earth,
there will remain the bones of my love
and a silica sculpture of his lungs.
Fran Gilmore
Fran is a poet, educator, artist and activist living in the Philadelphia area. She is a retired industrial hygienist. She has taught high school biology, health and safety to workers, emotional healing in a prison and anti-racism in community settings. She has been published in American Writing, Anthology Philly, Charlotte Poetry Review and other journals, and has a self-published chapbook, then jumped.
Today is Workers Memorial Day; the 2026 edition of “Death on the Job: The Toll of Neglect” marks the 35th year the AFL-CIO has produced the only comprehensive report on the state of safety and health protections for America’s workers.