Oh blesséd plow of city street
you cleared the way to give me ease
but where my road and driveway meet
a berm was made to later freeze.

My shovel couldn’t pierce the shell
and wind was whipping misery
s’I floored the gas and gave ‘er hell!
unsure of what would come of me.

I made it half-way over top
but then the bottom caught the hill
and there I teeter-tottered, stopped:
reverse or drive, and I stayed still.

Oh curse you plow of city roads!
You cleared a path, but built a wall
and so I’ll sit and sing my woes
for I can’t move my car at all.

published: Great Northern News December 2017 edition