Words

Words I came by a couple of my forgotten friends today. They are words, Mowing and Scythe. It’s about sixteen years! How heartily we relished our time together! Scythe accompanied me, resided in my right hand, Together we raided sugarcane fields, edges of paddy fields, and distant green horizons. We collected tokens of happiness. Mowing joined us as we met tall tender grass. We three feasted on sweat, Tidied the severed grasses in a green girl’s move, Like she combs and braids her silky seasoned hair. We were to barter our gains With some puny-powered coins. Many wouldn’t take them for nothing. But that “nothing” would reward our pains. Such sweet-sour scorching moments have gone. We have separated in our parts. In our green-forsaken days, We meet in words.