Two hundred miles I sojourned yesterday
    to see one tractor and its drill
        seeding the Fargo clay.
For me that’s always April’s greatest thrill
        which this year came in May. 

Snowmelt soaked into soil.  None ran downhill
    so our forecasted flood went bust.
        Long loitered the chill
of winter, but at least no clouds of dust
        blow from the fields we till.

Timothy Murphy