Walker
“I am…”
He said
With look; his eyes,
His chest forward and his head up.
“A can collector”
His knapsack filled
He was proud
“I make money
Clean the town
Convert trash to save the mum,
Our mother earth, ”
The words erupt.
His actions talk.
See me healthy in cold and hot,
I walk around
There are the times I run across
A singing bird on a branch, an icicle or melting ice,
Later I learnt
As a poet, as an artist
He hunts topic for works to come.
Deep in vision and yet humble,
Digs deep to roots.
Down to ground his act and work,
He is humble.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Being good always contribute to something, but be insightful make life get more than we used to..like this humble man...so cool, bright and he get my respect..nice write Nassy we always forgot the little things and person that we should say thanks to..you remind us for that_Soul