That Summer Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Summer dawn silky soft
Air is sweet, he's awake
He's Muslim; is fasting.

He had food; not so much
Now he prays, 'Thanking
Lord, and the God or Allah'

He's walking toward farm
He's holding sickle in hand
On shoulders the long rope

Day breaks, sun is up
In the field, he is lost
Sharps; Wheat is ripe.

As Westerns, is cautious
A kerchief on his mouth
With a sickle, sits to cut

With each move dust's rising
He's amongst the wheat dust
Summer-sun is killer; Brutal

'Fasting is for saving and helping
Fasting is a feeling, understanding
The needy and the poor in hunger'

He stops, tells his son, he is small

'Do not be lazy; lousy! '