Here, where it tuck in dungarees, in dungarees
Drop upward of a foot from his slow lip, from his slow lip
Hang in thick air, then drop another yard, another yard
It rain for almost forty day
It trickle through his roof, through his roof
Nights and days
Nights and days
Work this fold of soil, By God
Work this fold of soil, By God
From inner still he hear it, nights, it, nights
The floor of cabin hardly worth the worry, the worry
Against the bulk of a tree he breathe, he breathe
Washtub of air gray in his ribs, there
In the paper bags from where his balsam rise
From where he cough it gone, from where he cough it gone
Nights and days
Nights and days
Work this fold of soil, By God
Work this fold of soil, By God
Nights and days
Nights and days
Work this fold of soil, By God
Work this fold of soil, By God
