Snow melt slicks the drive.
Crusty, sedan-sized mounds of road-dusted winter
leak saturating spring run-off and muddy my way.
Our fifth seasonal weather has allowed me to play.
Shoulder-high, wood-handled hoe in hand
I push and pull greasy mud with the steel head
creating veins of silty thaw to empty the ruts of destinations
and ease the tension of the morning playing--pretending
my hoe is working to divert the overflow away from my path.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
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