Farmers

a poem by Roger B Rueda

At cockcrow, farmers are already up,
kitted out and heading out
to care for their crops.
The early morning dew
is still on the meadow.
The crisp cold air
is tweaking their faces.
Breaking up the earth
and making furrows
with their ploughs
pulled by their carabaos,
preparing it for their crop.
Planting the kernels
just as the sun rises high
above them.
Sore back, chapped hands,
and scorched feet
the farmers close
their eyes to.
They are resolute
to get their corn planted
and off to a growing birth.
The last kernel is put in
and watered, the sun
has just set
behind the bluish crags.
Time to get some break
for tomorrow’s round of getting
the toil done before another sun sets.

First saw print in Philippines Graphic, 12 September 2011.