The Workman Poem by Tony Adah

Somewhere an old tattered
Shirt hung and a pair of trousers flying
With a pair of concrete eaten boots
Flecks of cement caught the head pan
And a spade leaning on the wall.

To tell the truth
The strength is gone before the man
Work too is scarce
And beside the wall
Lay slumped a vegetable
His beard spiky and strong
Like a Rastafarian
The hairline receded
And beads of sweat and ants
Walking on it like camels
In the desert.
Age has taken his toll
His eyes closed against the world
By death's only brother
And his next choice
Of necessity is fate.