Measuring the Flames of the U.S. Labor Market

Once roared the fire, bright and wide,

Jobs like sparks that leapt with pride.

Each new hire is a crackling flame,

Fed by growth and easy gain.

Now embers glow, the blaze subdued,

A softer heat, a cautious mood.

The fire still lives, it has not died,

But wind and fuel are both denied.

Quits fall slow, not in a rush,

No panicked flight, no sudden hush.

Hires come thin, like drifting ash,

Not frozen still, yet lacking flash.

Most telling all, the logs remain,

No mass retreat, no driving rain.

Layoffs low, the hearth still warm,

No wildfire yet, no gathering storm.

But watch the edges, uneven burn,

Some corners char, some fail to turn.

For when the flame begins to bend,

Its future waits on what we send.