Country Men

The pussy willows show again
Along the boughs the furry rout,
And prove to watchful country men
The change they sensed has come about,

With one eye cocked upon the sun,
The other on their thawing hills,
They recognize the race begun
Between time and their fanning mills.

As if to snatch the day ahead
The spring comes on them leap by leap.
They drag the harrow from the shed,
The plow is roused from rusty sleep.

The horse resumes his halter rope,
The tractor shouts its fretful words,
While these men entertain no hope
Not voiced by line of singing birds.

Faster and faster roll the days,
The weeks slide down their shining tracks—
They move about in country ways
And hold the year against their backs.