Morning glory

Morning glory _ From our car Along the hilly path  Numerous they're  With the attention  of doing math  In their voice  A guitar  Colorful headgear  Off and on  mutual whispers  The Tea Pluckers  Mingled with the green  Humming and plucking  Unique discipline  Never a machine  Sometimes carrying  their babies on their backs While moms work  Babies relax  In sun and shadows  Day after day  On substandard pay Mostly illiterate  Inconsiderate employer Do you feel a jerk? In addition  unpaid domestic work  Through the ages  The same pages in the book  The same hook  Same tired look  No brook  Many a blade No cascade Delicate tea leaves  believe the tender hands Just the touches  between the skins  No command  The soft tender stem  Approvingly expand Smilingly withstands  The pain of being torn  Thorns of death  At the love-smeared hands  of mothers  Or lovers? The Tea Pluckers