On this Thursday night, after a boisterous snowstorm
we emerge
few tiny dark figures
chipping, scratching, scraping
with deep breaths, putting our habour in place
in the cold silence
we chime tunes with our plow
I said it is knee high
I worry the exhaust pipes
I thought perhaps to help the next guy
but my spent back had other plans
in the near east, a politician walked out without a plow
in the ether, an architect asks for a plan
if when tomorrow comes, we will lay down our maps
our pens to its ground, push ink around
But for now, I am still
Jan 15
Jan 15, 2026 at 7:39 PM UTC
On this Thursday night, after a boisterous snowstorm
we emerge
few tiny dark figures
chipping, scratching, scraping
with deep breaths, putting our habour in place
in the cold silence
we chime tunes with our plow
I said it is knee high
I worry the exhaust pipes
I thought perhaps to help the next guy
but my spent back had other plans
in the near east, a politician walked out without a plow
in the ether, an architect asks for a plan
if when tomorrow comes, we will lay down our maps
our pens to its ground, push ink around
But for now, I am still
