Harvesting the Grapes of Wrath

Just the picture that went through my head at the end of The Grapes of Wrath

Wretched faces,

Tattered rags

Clustered in the doorway.

Eyes scan the blue-ing sky

Looking for hope;

Finding it at last

As the young breastfeed the old

behind them, unseen.

Author's Note

I know it's a little wierd, but.... w/e.