I Saw Him

I saw him in the zenith of the sun with a back bent to its angry gaze His sweat confluenced with the sand on his leg, spread apart As his hoe thronged its way through the obstinate land To make heaps of hope In an unperturbed manner. I saw him Rose to take the strokes from the rain that came with little or no warning clouds. I saw him fighting so hard the unwanted guests around the pregnancy of the heaps like the Trojans Though with a sword weary of this cause. I saw him, again in the next day beaming with hopes for the meager he got for his toils I saw him.