The Old Problem - Steve Mason

Sorrow gushed from their eyes

And made their sad tears flow

While this way and that

They flapped their hands for ease

From the hot soil now

And now from the burning snow

Behaving, in fact, exactly

As one sees dogs in the summer

Scuffing with snout and paw

When they are eaten up

With gnats, and flies and fleas

I looked at many thus scorched by the fiery floor

And though I scanned their faces with the utmost heed

There was no one there I recognized