Plow Poems - Poems about Plow

Driving along steel on the road look in the mirror salt falls from my load Moving just as swift as I can Look at me I'm the snow plow man Snow piles high as it moves off my plow push back corners the kids scream WOW working round the clock all through the night Clearing the roads With determination an might Road to road...

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This little voice keeps telling me to, keep my head down and plow forward. It seems that the further I go there's more debris to clog the road. It is broken in some places gale force winds are ever present sheer drop offs on either side the sky spits blue ice most of the time. The voice also tells me to...

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Winter sun is yellow gold Making mud run of melting snow And Carolina clay is frozen hill Where kids sled and play at will Frosted sky with cotton cloud In the eye of guy driving snow plow He’s hard at work while we all play All school kids search for snowy days ...

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I tell myself to look away as I seek to avoid the truth But even when I close my eyes I find that it’s no use Seems there’s no escaping from the memories of my past I see now it was foolish to think those days would last So here I am I spend my days remembering how...

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A well-water pump cranks out its iron-water crooked wire remains -- once, sturdy chicken coops The brackish, muddy area over there, the cowshed some withered trees dot the hills, bereft now of their fruit A few young lads herd goats, or perhaps they are living skeletons? ...

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Can't you see the big snow flakes coming down ...

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I look down the hill and see the plague in the valley Ravaging farmer, field and crop alike Where the bundles are stored and young children are carried Every motion they take, they go farther from light All that can help them is the plow of compassion It too has a memory, it too can yield May it help them cross...

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A plow horse woman without ribbons or accolades outworking the glittering high stepping show horse parade. She'll never get promotion she doesn't play their game, She just puts in an honest forty- five lays another callus on the day. You'll never see cherries on her knees. from climbing slippery corporate ladders. There's no aces up her tattered...

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Divorced and tossed aside the kittens dragged along for a very bumpy ride. You've gained some weight but are sinking. 2 days a week seeing a second hand shrink. They paint so slowly-tell you pretty things for a hundred bucks an hour. You bought a bike -a bright running suit You're on the prowl again. crimson stilettos for stepping out... while game boy is...

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By late November, the harvest had ended, the crops were gathered, and the weather was changing because a new season was coming The farming machinery and the field equipment were silenced And the sounds now heard were raindrops and snowflakes The ice cycles had formed on the edges of rooftops and tree branches We would take and break some cycles,...

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Don’t wait for that perfect poem to appear It lives in the seeds of your imperfection Waiting for new furrows of wonder and strife To flower in soil you have yet to plow (Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)...

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alone he stands behind the plow in footrace with the lengthened dawn a shadow figure in the now pursues the where and when and how of unseen reins so slowly drawn alone he stands behind the plow each furrow’s end a prayerful bow an homage paid – dark soil turned fawn a shadow figure in the now a twisted plowmans daily prowl his dream -...

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The roadside implement left without attendant, an objective lesson of technology progression. Long lacking use, should be rot and rust. Yet is anything but, even years without digging rut. A hand once guided, a horse once dragged. Hung up like the harness, and the feed bag. So roadside it sits, repainted and new. A plow, a...

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My head rested on my arms atop the wooden ledge. A basement window I peered through covered with packed snow. My mind wandered to the fridge where a carton of milk Sat empty on the door inside my fridge. ‘I can’t go out.’ A mortal existence against a relentless cold reality. I imagined a world...

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Snow Cold and white Like clouds in a sky Lots of it on the ground Surrounding me As I go For my morning walk I see an Amish man go by On his snow plow Pulled by horses With a dog following On the ground And soon a path Is being made So that people Can get to...

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