Los tres braceros

step by step they follow
treading in a line
slim and dark, eyes ahead
faces brown, hair ashine
moving steady, in a row
bags in hand, they walk
mexicanos on their way
they do not smile or talk
mile on mile they plod along
to the work they need
single file, in a trance
northward, they proceed
indians in cowboy hats
unseemly looking sight
walking to the white mans work
to labor till the night
pobres siempres
estan hombres tristeros
no puedan tiempo por lagrimas
entonces todos perspireros

1996