the dark man sits in a cherry tree
whistling a melody
for them to sing along to
his faded overalls hung
over his strong broad shoulders
and his straw hat shaded his sweaty nose

The dark men stalk the steamy field
singing the melody the cherry man whistled
their coarse earthy claws continually latched to the cotton
potato sacks and whicker baskets tied around their waists
holding the accumulations from a long cruel day

They picked till they bled
and then picked some more
but the cherry man sat
and hung his legs
and let his haunting tune
shepherd the peons