This poem has been in my head for a few days now. The poet is a friend of a friend. Audio at the link too. -WB

Mama's Work

Mama tucked the coffee can between her wrist and hip
and walked down Dry Creek Road. Her eyes lined-up,
blush and lipstick, her Levi shorts cut above the thigh.
And what it was to see those farmers cutting down wheat,
side-glancing mama, barefoot and brown. Sometimes it’s flour,
sometimes money when she empties the can. Her work
in the quiet corners of barns on the hay, on hot days
when locusts launch themselves out of thickets.
I stare down Dry Creek Road looking for her wrist and hip,
her splayed hair and small toes walking out of a pone-colored dust

Santee Frazier

http://www.fishousepoems.org/archives/sant...

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Santee Frazier is a citizen of the Cherokee Nation of Oklahoma. He holds a BFA from the Institute of American Indian Arts and an MFA from Syracuse University. He is the recipient of various awards including The Truman Capote Scholarship and a Syracuse University Fellowship. His poems have appeared in American Poet, Narrative Magazine, Ontario Review, and various literary journals. His first collection of poems, Dark Thirty, was published by the University of Arizona Press in spring 2009.