Junior rummages through tools, supplies, and packing materials alongside the Porta Jon and, and when he snatches a sickle-shaped fruit knife, wielding it like a talon, men in the fields rush over, waving their arms and shouting, “¡Cuchillo, cuchillo!” Screams scare off birds. Workers huddle behind the water truck, shake their heads, or run for their cars while Knife, knife! resounds. Arms splayed, Junior pounces around his father who slouches against the Porta Jon; he pokes and slices the day’s breeze and brightness; he lunges forward, backward, side to side like a young animal learning to walk while fencing a ghost.
William Auten – “Out There in the Sunlight”