Martha Landman

steadfast as the rise and fall of the Africa sun
signalled the start of day on the farm —
the chatter of the work folk
the women’s robes flagging in the breeze
a baby on its mother’s back or breast
in the distance cowbells, sprinklers on the lawn
a tractor starting up in a diesel waft

before the birds rose at the edge of dawn
those footsteps, firm and fast
were warning signs —
be ready, act busy, dodge the whip
for idleness is the devil’s pillow
my father a straight man
and every step on that farm
was like stomping grapes to make good wine