Answer:
A Black Man Talks of Reaping
I have sown beside all waters in my day
I planted deep, within my heart the fear
That wind or fowl would take the grain away.
I planted safe against this stark, lean year.
I scattered seed enough to plant the land
In rows from Canada to Mexico
But for my reaping only what the hand
Can hold at once is all that I can show.
Yet what I sowed and what the orchard yields
My brother' sons are gathering stalk and root,
Small wonder then my children glean in fields
They have not sown, and feed on bitter fruits
* * * * *
Idolatry
You have been good to me, I give you this:
The arms of lovers empty as our own,
marble lips sustaining one long kiss
And the hard sound of hammers breaking stone.
For I will build a chapel in the place
Where our love died and I will journey there
To make a sign and kneel before your face
And set an old bell tolling on the air.
* * * *
Explanation:
