Gazing out the window
at a blanket of snow,
drifting and blowing,
it's about 10 below.
Donning my jacket
and gloves to ensure,
no frostbite will result
from the cold temperature.
A swig of hot tea
to warm my insides,
then out to the elements,
where duty abides.
Surveying the depth
of the fresh fallen flakes,
wielding my shovel,
taking no breaks,
diligently creating
huge powder piles,
huffing and puffing,
knowing all the while,
before a respite,
there's much more to do,
a path to the front door
needs carving out too.
When my work is all finished,
walkways are free,
I spread salt on ice spots,
so no one sues me.
Standing for a moment,
smiling in my mind,
the effort was worth it,
all's finished . . . then I find,
as I put my shovel away,
wouldn't you just know,
flurries drift from above . . .
it's beginning to snow!