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Rosemary Turpin Feb 2016
First the signs and then the noise -
Insistent, honking, grinning boys
Announcing City snow-ploughs

What's this raucous clarion call,
This four-note trumpet klaxon?
It's the boys who tell the world
To move its Ford, Corvette or Datsun.

A snowfull truck on squeaky chains
Creaks off to dump its ***** crystal load.
And four more trucks parked right behind
Sashay one notch along the road.

Truck number two clanks up beside
The blower which spews salt and snow
Into its built-up box beside.

See, grinding now, a baby plough,
With red-faced driver tucked inside,
Trundles bundles of frozen stars
Into someone's shoveled drive.

While upon this clanking ballet
Lacy snowflakes lazy drift
Lightly swirling fluffy piles
For moving by tomorrow's shift.
I don`t think Datsuns are made any more and now we have a two-note "trumpet klaxon".  Other than that, little has changed since 1973.
Steve Sufian Jan 2019
Rags and soap,

Shovels and hope,

Snowploughs, bulldozers, rock salt

Clear the asphalt.



Love, gratitude, forgiveness

Clear our heart.
That crunch when you think that you've stood on a snail, but you know it's the snow and yet you still look for a snail,

The mailman comes when the mailman can and sometimes he comes in a little red van, slipping and sliding and riding the clutch, he's a good mailman, but as a driver he *****.

Snowploughs moving like slow cows and you're stuck behind one.

This is what will be,
Summer,
just a memory,

thermals you'll find are
not just things for eagles
to rise up on.

Enjoy what is left
and I don't mean that
krap newspaper.

— The End —