Lynn, I wonder if Richard Wright's "bend in strange winds, respond to the warmth of other suns, and perhaps, to bloom" from
Black Boy, and Isabel Wilkerson's (wonderful) new book on the South-North migration,
The Warmth of Other Suns, might have any bearing on your last line. Tom
A white pick-up, creased with rust,
parked alongside a washboard road
with a washing machine weighting the truck bed.
A power pole marks a driveway’s end. There’s
a cable looped down and plugged in, hijacking
current from above. And a garden hose
filling the tub. A woman stands on
the tailgate, sorts whites from colors,
an earlier load spread over fence lines
to dry on the way to being worn under
another sun.