Harriet Monroe

From “Carolina Wood-cuts”

THE OX-TEAM and the automobile

Stood face to face on the long red road.

The long red road was narrow

At the turn of the hill,

And below was the sun-dancing river

Afoam over the rocks.

The mild-mannered beasts stood pat, chewing their cud.

The stubble-bearded man from the mountains,

Rustier than his wagon,

Unmoving eyed the proud chauffeur.

The little ragged girl

With sun-bleached hair,

Sitting on a hard, yellow-powdery bag,

Looked across at the smart motor hats of the ladies,

And their chiffon scarfs

That the light breeze fingered.

The proud chauffeur blew his horn,

But nothing moved—

Except the foaming, sun-dancing river down below.

Then he jerked his head,

And turned his wheel.

And slowly, carefully,

The automobile moved back over the long red road.

And the mild-mannered beasts lifted their feet,

And the stubble-bearded man flipped his rein,

And the ragged little girl looked ahead up the hill.

And the ox-team lumbered and limped over the long red road.