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Posts Tagged ‘love for human beings’

A version of this poem was published in The Wilmington Review years ago. I have revised it several times since it was published. .This is the latest.

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Song Of The Migrant Workers

Julie Buffaloe-Yoder

Their shacks, a row of scabs

on the hot, red backs of rows

where naked children

with broken eyes

stare at the noon-white sky

and shuffle little feet

through dust, gnats, hope.

.

With skin like sweat damp tobacco,

they work from six in the morning

’til eight at night, six days a week

for two rooms and a few dollars.

Heads bent low, they wear nothing

but red bandanas, burlap sacks, sun.

.

Sundays, they wake before dawn

and bathe in an irrigation pond.

They go to church in a condemned

general store with no pews

and stay long after we have

eaten way too much for supper.

.

Their tambourines shake with God

as they sing of the Kingdom coming,

snorting horses, stark dark revelations.

Their voices rise like rainbows

through thunder cracked clouds.

.

Night grows fat outside our windows

when they speak in unknown tongues.

The wind remembers their notes.

The ground trembles beneath our feet.

.

.


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