Hot winds brush against sunburned cheeks.
Constant, rhythmic movements of bending and standing.
Hands reach down and up, heads bent in silence.
Hear the birds chirping, hear the leaves rustling.
Hear the cracking bones, hear the sweat roll.
Slice and dice, crop and drop.
See their twisted, sunken expressions.
See their swollen, dehydrated faces.

Dry dust cakes their throat and coats their lungs.
Rattle and shake is their labored breath.
Momentary pauses as they struggle for air.
The sun is tearing through atmosphere and skin.
Under wide hats, tears and sweat mix.
Water spills as they begin to fade.
See their cracked, bleeding lips.
See their glowing, peeling skin.

Pray for clouds, beg for drinks.
Drop to meet the dirt and dust.
Lift and shove and pull and push.
Shaking hands never stop, never stray from work.
Hear the cheerful chatter that’s not from here.
Hear the empty rustles of bundles of cash.
Orders come out clear and sharp.
Shaking bodies never stop, never stray from work.