The Laughter in a Life

With his loud laughter ringing
Across the fields of West Kentucky
He strode along the rows
Of tall tobacco plants
Touching each pungent leaf
With his hard caressing hands.
Through dusk and dark and on into the night
His laughter roamed above the black loose soil.

He drove his mules to county fairs
To sales and contests of endurance;
He traded flesh for flesh
And laughed while telling of the trades
He made to his advantage.
And time wore on and on.

In the back of his black caverned eyes
The creases of his mind
Compelled him to minute things.
He grew to whittling little mules
From hickory sticks and walnut limbs;
He never thought of county fairs, tobacco plants,
Or how the rain was washing arsenic from the leaves.
He only smiled while whittling little mules.