My grandfather was a share-cropper
Working someone else’s land
My father and uncles worked in industry
Making machines run for corporations
My brothers are tradesmen
Creating things of wood and stone and metal and plastic
I was and am a servant of the state
A manager of programs and a leader of troops
Making plans and enforcing policies that are not my own
I’m also an academic
Writing papers to influence others
Or to teach them the things I know
But I can not shake the feeling that
Despite better compensation
Each of the generations
Have moved farther from truth
For thought it may not carry much honor
In this modern age we live in
There is something honest and basic
That can only be found
Through working in the soil.