Each day my mother
delivered to the fields
where my father toiled
a mid-day meal
of hard-boiled eggs
coarse wheat bread
buttered yellow as barley
and slathered in wild raspberry jam
 
Coffee in mason jars
sweetened with molasses
thick with cow’s cream
all wrapped in newspaper
and towels
hot to touch
 
she popped the seal
from the jar
with the edge of the golden lid
poured it
let the fragrant liquid cool
before he sipped the edge
of the green glass cup
 
Strained muscles dust sin and sweat
washed away by that sweet drink
followed by a little sleep
in the shade of the tractor’s wheel


From Oona River Poems (forthcoming from Thistledown Press).
Used here with the author's permission.