Plant, Sucker, Green, Dry

Plant, Sucker, Green, Dry

Plant, sucker, green, dry,this was the rhythm of life, notthe average lullaby, no knightsin armor, shining or otherwise, damselscouldn’t be in distress. We had to saveourselves.

Plant, sucker, green, drythe seasons changed, but the work remainedjust in a different form, variations on a theme,taking on a different pace, allpart of my race’s race.

PlantEarly spring it began, dropping seedlingsin the sand, dirt holes as we hung on like lifebehind a tractor’s steady pull, each dropcritical for what was to come.

SuckerLate spring, the plants grew highbut no growth without pain, good tangled with bad,flowers needed to be plucked by skilledhands, the thanks, a black sticky mess.

GreenSummer comes in full force, the longest phase,temperatures hot and rising, leavesslinging from truck to stick to barn, startingat break of day, backs nearly brokenwhile the sun went home.

DryFall came in without celebration, school put on pause,until dry was freed from wood, stacked in tin, wrappedin cloth toe sacks, bundled and carted off to auction.the cold of winter a welcomed end.

Plant, sucker, green, drythus was the cycle of life, likea grandfather clock keeping time, minutessecond, hand just as needed, if not equal.