Dust # 2 Poem by Eric Cockrell

the old man fell asleep in his chair, and dreamt:
he was swinging the sledge barechested in the
hot summer sun, driving iron fence posts. his
daughters were pulling the wire fence every
now and again he stopped to help them pull it
tight. the dogs ran free, chasing each other, and
barking

finally, he stopped. 'gonna go in and check on your
mom. y'all watch the dogs! '
he opened the sliding door, and walked into the coolness.
letting his eyes adjust for a moment, he stared across
the room. his woman sat on the counter, her feet in
the sink, shaving her legs. grinning, he walked across
the room.
she looked up. 'what are you grinning at, fool? '
'the prettiest damn thing i've seen in a while! '
she wrapped her legs around his sweaty waist. 'well,
what are you going to do about it? '
he picked her up. one of his daughters came to the door.
'you coming back out now, daddy? '
'not right now, baby.'