A breath

The wind washes over my face
I turn toward the sun
beating down on the fertile terrain
that drapes through the valley
The roar of the truck engine
blends with the hum of the sprinklers
Color animates those who work
barefooted amongst the vegetables and fruit
I arrive, I leave, in a moment
I am a breath in a long history
A breath full of the sustaining power
that cultivates these fields