I Pimp the Worthy Fandom Causes

[the_wanlorn]

Also, I've managed to forget that this is National Poetry Month. A poem a day keeps the mind rot away! Reapers, by Jean Toomer 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. I read this poem a long, long time ago in school and ended up analyzing it a couple years later for an exam. It, like most of my favorite poems, managed to survive the instinctual loathing that I develop after I read something for school. I'm not sure why I like it so much. It's short enough to have memorized, I've always liked poems that rhyme (as trite as that style is now) and have a steady rhythm. I guess I like it because it's a reminder that death, like time, waits for no man. It happens, it gets done, and it's not all that big of a deal. And thus begins my poetry spam this month. ;-)