Caren Krutsinger Poet Free verse

Shovel Stares At Me Waiting

Cold air holds me in her grip
Fierce and unfriendly,
Reminding me who is boss
of this below zero, minus twenty wind chill day.

Shovel stares at me, waiting. A push ahead day 
or an under scoop and throw day?
Different snow types deserve specific, diverse ways of removal.

My foot slips. giving me a clue.
Recognizing an under scoop and throw day.
I begin my tedious task, watching rows of black
asphalt rise up to meet the white tundra. 

It is March, 
Time for blizzards to be over.
Loud angry scraping noises
from the patient shovel, remind
me that most things winter are not in my power.

Written 3-01-2019
Contest: A Scraping of Shovels
Sponsor: John Lawless

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Kim Rodrigues March 1, 2019 at 8:37 PM Enjoyed how you ended your poem with the scraping - angry, patient, not in your power Caren Krutsinger March 1, 2019 at 9:59 PM It certainly is not, yet, I always get fooled.