The Season for Pastels
Looking out the window I can see
vistas unlimited that stretch beyond
mu neighbor's backyard. All winter
he and I have barely glimpsed one
another in the falling snow...
Andre my neighbor behind his machine,
goggles on and snow flying as he plows
through windrows of lake effect snow
tidying up driveways and sidewalks
so our postman can fulfill his oath
and deliver the stuff we glance at
and deposit in the garbage.
Then I think of angels that descend
with gasoline powered machines
to make his way clear!
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
Added by Poetry Lover
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