Outside a rooted mobile home, the rural blues
play in the sky while a woman hangs
the laundry piled in a basket at her feet.
Bending over and reaching up and reaching
over and stretching up and
her washer damp load of once a week whites
flap loud from the clothesline, slapping
the air -
white flags, ragged, cease fire white
unspangled banners flying low above
this Texas ground
calling to legions gone
down the years -
I surrender
I do
surrender