LUMBERMEN

I watch the lumbermen Winding up the mountain Between the autumn branches. I see Leaves gold, red, flame and green, With flashes of faded blue between Of their overalls. Straining and pulling Horses brown and soiled white Stagger up the mountain side Before them Dragging huge and heavy timber. Down in the valley I can hear the echo Of the men’s muffled curses, And the quick snap Of long thin whips.