Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership


Comment on Reapers and see more Jean Toomer poems below.

Written by: Jean Toomer | Biography
| Poems
 | Quotes |
 Black reapers with the sound of steel on stones
Are sharpening scythes.
I see them place the hones In their hip-pockets as a thing that's done, And start their silent swinging, one by one.
Black horses drive a mower through the weeds, And there, a field rat, startled, squealing bleeds, His belly close to ground.
I see the blade, Blood-stained, continue cutting weeds and shade.

Comment below this ad.

Top Jean Toomer Poems