He greets the sun's angry face with a tip of his hat.
He is familiar with his wrath.
At noon, the battle begins.
But time is on his hands.
His journey is a short one.
The town he created sings with life
As the wind blows.
He is he giver of life.
He watches as the youngsters grow up tall and strong.
He is their master, but it is from them he learns.
Rough hands, gentle heart
And like every other day
He forms a new bond.
He plants new life.
He forms a connection with his masterpiece.
The sun grows weary and he falls from his perch.
And the full moon rises from its slumber.
From above, he watches.
Farewell he says
But the sun will bring him back again soon.
He is the protector.
He is the giver of town's life.
He is the farming man.
© Copyright 2016 OxannaRose. All rights reserved.
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