I.
my bones rattle
out of rhythm
exhausted.
II.
red clay, dry dust
under fingernails
Mixed with sweat.
III.
planted rows
stand erect, ready
for their work.
IV.
raise up, lower
hack, disc, cut
weeds.
V.
vines tangle together
as i twist, cut, pick
vegetables.
VI.
sun droops below
i, weary wanderer,
bring my labor home.
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