Curious eyes followed mornings rise.
A canopy of clouds blocked the sun in the
over the circle of tired spirits.
Colds hands grasped dented tin cups, welcoming the
aroma of coffee as fingers stretched around
its warmth.
A truck driver bounced to a stop. Burlap bags
Tossed to the ground resembled shed skin as workers
watched the man leave.
A final taste of bitter coffee burned slow in the
throats of men. Dust followed them to the fields.
Roger Singer 