The One Furrow
When I was young. I went to school
With pencil and footrule
Sponge and slate,
And sat on a tall stool
At learning's gate.
When I was older, the gate swung wide:
Clever and keen-eyed
In I pressed.
But found in the mind's pride
No peace, no rest.
Then who was it taught me back to go
To cattle and barrow,
Field and plough:
To keep to the one furrow.
As I do now?
R.S. THOMAS