A low light struggles
to create shadows. Curtains
hang lifeless before an open
window. A radio in a back room
whispers out a sound between
static and humid air.
Men gather, choosing favorite
chairs. Cigarette and cigar smoke
drifts up forming its own
cloud. Working calloused hands
hold weathered playing cards.
Suspicious and curious eyes feign
confidence before a pile of wrinkled
money intended for rent and
groceries staring contemptuously
at them. A sleeping dog raises his head
when cards are thrown in disgust.
A chair tips over as harsh words
fill the space between men. Slowly
they leave for the fields. Work soothes
the anger but not the loss.
Roger Singer 