A Farmstead Poem by Tony Adah

A broken gourd half holding water
A cutlass of a derelict hilt
And a hound tethered to a tree stump
Licking his lips
The tail moving in the wind
The absent farmer heaving a huge sigh
Bent on his hoe.
Beads of sweat roll down
His wearied body borne in tattered robes
He came up the stead
And picked the gourd and gulped
And the water that was short
Of sugar and milk to be tea
Between his lips and the gourd leaking.
And the raiment not a taint
Different from the mad man's
He wore the anguish of toil
And the strangle of subsistence
He is so today and tomorrow
And no one cares.