#cucumberfields

Cucumber Fields Crossed by High Tension Wires

  by Thomas Lux

The high-tension spires spike the sky beneath which boys bend to pick from prickly vines the deep-sopped fruit, the rind’s green a green sunk in green. They part the plants’ leaves, reach into the nest, and pull out mother, father, fat Uncle Phil. The smaller yellow-green children stay, for now. The fruit goes in baskets by the side of the row, every thirty feet or so. By these…