At night the tractor lights burn
on the field
where it opens the furrow
full of dust and water vapour
and so the farmer ploughs
through the early red-day
until he has to get some more diesoline,
do quickly eat his breakfast
and do draw some more furrows
with the dust clouds hanging out
from the back of his tractor
until he is finally finished
and like someone walking in sleep
very tired arrive at home,
do barely notice his wife and children,
do give her a kiss
and when he wants to go to the bedroom
she does chase him to the bathroom
before he does close the door of the bedroom
and falls upon the bed
and immediately is swept away by sleep.
© Gert Strydom
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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