The ground was hard, hard as coal. The earth was cold as the dew of night. The black back bent over in shame as the white brow called his name. The swear rolled as the sun grew fierce, the black of the mud mixed with the sweat of the negro caused black water to splash to the ground. Never knowing when the fight would end. Never knowing when the life would send the families away, all the while the black water dripping down the brow of the negro man, begging for a new plan.