Two plows, one beside and behind the other,

Are clearing the one road in and out of town,

Embanked in dirty mounds on either side

Of the dark pavement raised here and there

With ice where the plow blades jumped over

A swollen seam, the patches of salt-glint like

Seaslide on moonlit sand, and every half-mile

Or so the settled snow of a long lane leading

Off between white fields, the steep slant of

A barn where always one light leans above

The loft door, almost hidden in eave-shadow.

Wind-sifted snow, blue arc of one winter star.