looking back, I’m grateful
for the years in the 
tobacco field

we all had a role,
from setting, topping,
cutting, hanging, and,
finally, taking to sell–
praying for a good price

in all those years, I never
heard my Papaw complain,
even though he listened to
the rest of us, all day long

it was his money on the line–
his farm–and
Mother Nature struck his crop
every year–drought, or flood, 
or hail

Papaw didn’t blame or make excuses,
he simply got in the field and did
whatever could be done

I never spoke with Papaw about this–
I was just a stupid kid–and it took
a few knocks on my head 
before I learned to reflect,
to recognize, to
appreciate, to
simply do the work