Transition Poem by Haruna Garba

Weeding, fertilizing and harvesting:
That is how i go slaving, quarter of a year
which sees through moaning of the sky.
Drained of energy, baked by the sun
Caught often by the harsh lovely rains:
That is how i go slaving, quarter of a year
which sees through sulking of the sky.
Bootless, gown-less and turban bereft
In tatters and softly hissing quagmire:
That is how I go slaving, quarter of a year
which sees through commotions in the sky
cross-legged, smiling having myself a ball
That is how I pass through the rest of the year:
a non-borrower, non-grumbler of any form