i am farmer today's
you may not know me .
to dig the pages of poetry i use my
pointy blue pen.
i am famer perhaps,
unknown to you.
in place of developed seeds i sow appropriate words.
in the place of water and fertilizers
i use imagination and emotions.
when dig the soil of poetry only my pen
speaks.
but when the seed turned to be full grown tree.
i stop digging, as words became a poem.
©subirmitra
S