Mice or Men

Pausing so quickly,
By the granary door.
I listened awhile,
For something more.

So soon there came,
Mice sounds on tin.
And then raced the rats,
With all their kin.

Each one eating,
A bounteous share.
Of what they wanted,
From the harvest there.

Out of the holes,
Within the boards.
Was a line of travel,
From a squeaking horde.

O tell me...O tell me,
And tell me again.
What for is a harvest,
Be it mouse...or for men?


E.P. 1908 - 1989