“Uncle Leon” by Kevin Blankenship

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“Sharpen up them spears and knives boys!”
Pause to take a draw of cigarette,
Smoke rises like some mystic shaman.
“Time to cut some tabaccer!”
Another draw, a pause,
Cough following smoke
Like the rattle of a bone cart.
“Do a little dance, up and down them rows,
Swing those arms like a fiddler’s draw!”
Then he would stand, and call out the rhythm,
Like a dance caller, and we would work,
A cadence in tune with earth,
Smell of honeysuckle,
A song of old times,
While Uncle Leon smoked and cut,
Smoked and cut,
Driving us onward
Toward the setting sun.

-Kevin Blankenship

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