` <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />He hunched with sweat-drenched brow <br />his sickle lay beside uncut stalks <br />the insects droned toward blood <br />that trickled from the web of his hand <br />He quickly wrapped the wound - <br /> <br /> <br />Throughout the day he worked <br />the scent of ripened rice filled the air <br />against the threat of early rains <br />to gather and thresh the golden grain <br />Dreamless sleep his reward - <br /> <br />The sun shone low in the sky <br />the field now a barber's Number-2 <br />the sound of children's play lit the air <br />smoke of the evening meal met the clouds <br />A cold drink soothes his hands <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />`<br /><br />Ricky 'Freds' Kesner<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/harvest-bintuan-rice-fields/
