The Farmer Whistles Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

The farmer whistles
Low
For
He
Has
Gathered
The corn

It be dusk.
Head bent
To
The country
Dust
Of
Winding
Rural
Roads
The farmer goes

Behind
Him
Dogs
And
Horses
Drawing carts
And
In the carts the sacks of corn
He gathered then.

That was all.
The rest
Lay
Seeds in the soft
Ground
Of soil and hemorrhage
Nocturnal

So I
So I
The Poet Seer,
The philosopher,
The Scientist,
The Mathematician
The Economist
Sociologist
Anthropologist
And the Rest
So I
These sacks of
Corn
About me
Locked
And carried
On my horses watched by dogs.
For now
Age and tiredness have counted.
Now
Homewards to a welcome hearth
Dream.
And
From there Inner Soul that flies
As
Through the casements of
The Dawn
Flies up
Into the heavens blue
Into new days