The sun rose.
He was up,
Hoe in hand,
‘Til sun down.
He worked the land
Ridding the weeds.
Seeds he planted
And watched them grow.
He harvested greens,
Potatoes, and beets,
Corn, green beans, okra,
Them was such good eats!
When the years passed and time
Marched forward, his temples
Grayed, his back hunched over.
His skin thinned from aging.
His sweat and tears on fertile
Soil are ready to join with
His old body to enter
The soil the last time to stay.
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