The narrator of the poem is a writer who observes his family's history of manual labor. He sits at his desk holding a pen, likening the writing instrument to a gun in its latent power. Hearing the clean, rasping sound of his father digging outside his window, he reflects on his separation from the physical toil of his ancestors. He recalls the cold smell of potato mould and the squelch of soggy peat. He chooses to honor his heritage by using his pen to unearth memories, adapting his family's legacy of physical digging to his intellectual profession.

An older man who continues to work the soil, maintaining a direct physical connection to the earth. In the present, his straining rump is visible among the flowerbeds beneath the speaker's window. Through the speaker's memories, he is seen twenty years prior working in potato drills, nestling his coarse boot on the lug of the spade and levering the shaft firmly against his knee. He roots out tall tops and scatters new potatoes, demonstrating rhythmic expertise with a shovel.

The speaker's ancestor represents the deep historical roots of the family's connection to the land. He is remembered for his extraordinary endurance, cutting more turf in a day than any other man on the bog. The speaker recalls taking him milk in a bottle corked casually with a piece of paper, watching him drink briefly before falling right back to work. He heaves sods over his shoulder and goes continually down into the soil for good turf, setting the ultimate familial standard for hard labor.