Week 8: Reapers & My Arms

Reapers by Jean Toomer
This brief poem is written about people sharpening their scythes and cutting down the grass in the field. I had to look up what a scythe was and found that it is similar to a sickle just longer. Imagining the poor rodent caught in the path of the tool was a little sad and actually made the act of cutting grass seem sinister. What other poor animals have fallen prey to the reaping?

My Arms by Paul Guest
This poem is written about a man and his inability to use his own body to preform tasks. toward the end of the poem he mentions that the woman in his life can now help him with his daily occupations. I researched the author of this poem online and found out that he was born the same year as me (1983) and that he led a totally normal life until age 12. When he was 12 he was in a bicycle accident that left him a quadriplegic. After researching the author I reread the poem and was able to fully understand it.