Poetry Jam - "The Tobacco Farmers"

Farm Security Admin.,  Jack Delano, photographer

The Tobacco Farmers

Back in the day

he was a dashing young man, 

and I a country girl, willowy and strong,

both of us full of zest and glee,

first generation polish stock, we.

Toiled side by side, 

he decapitating flowers and

suckers stalk after stalk, 

stooped, sometimes crawling

between row upon row 

of never-ending filth.

I hoed and hoed, black

calloused hands better than gloves.

Every hour or so, his glance, a smile

would lighten my load.

Mid morning break, 8:45, 
already exhausted
somehow kept going 'till high noon
clothes soaked through,

we’d lean our backs 

against solitary bleached barn.

Oh, the blessed shade, our haven 

in the middle of hell

and we’d consider ourselves lucky

if a snake sighted, the bigger

the better, for we felt reassured

the monstrous rats would be

held at bay for another day.

And so precious minutes, we rested

hands tingling, swollen

blisters burst, pink, tender

skin didn’t stand a chance 

of ever remaining baby soft.

Back into the field, 

never enough water

to quench our thirst

often feeling dizzy and nauseous,

flamethrower upon our backs. 

Times were tough

possessions few,

but my Matka she tell us

“Enjoy this freedom” 

and so we did

dignity, self respect, and laughter

filled all our days.

by Margaret Bednar, Art Happens 365, January 12, 2012

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This is linked to "Poetry Jam" - Laugh in the Face of Everything.  The awesome photo prompt is at the top of this post.