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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Cultural · #2267314
Rice fields can be intensive labor. I thought of Isaan in Thailand. An old person's view.
Ricefields

  when I was young

and my body bent
   like a young green blade
and my arms were strong
   and my fingers nimble
as I planted the sprouts
   that would flourish with rains
that once ripened and gleaned
   would nourish our bodies
working till fields were burned
   leaving ashes midst stubble
and now as I tire
   as the sun retires
too tired perhaps yet
  my heart full of joy
and I open my lungs
   and sing of deeds done
to the glow
   of the fireflies dancing

© Copyright 2022 Kåre Enga [178.320] (20.januar.2022)

19 lines
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