Short Snowplows Poems

sand on the bridges
       snowplows are clearing the roads
                                    drivers are careful...

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First sprinkles of snow
Snowplows loaded with gravel
Schools are closed notices,
My momma takes off from work
Weather forecaster is wrong!

Written October 11, 2022...

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Going stir-crazy, gotta get outta the house
Insane it is but better than letting the bugs carouse
Those nasty wee critters
A bad virus they deliver
At least we don't have to deal with snowplows...

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See the snow falling 
the frozen trees sway
snowdrifts like mountains
a squirrel running
birds at the feeder

Feel a sadness
deep loneliness
thirsty for love
the pain of death

Hear music
the fireplace
the snowplows

Taste tea
brown toast

Eggs...

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The icicles are dripping.
The branches lost their white.
The roads are back to blacktop.
Has winter lost its bite?

The drifts are slightly shorter;
The snowplows out of sight.
The mittens stay in pockets.
The sky has extra light.

The temperature is rising.
If weathermen are right,
There might be major melting,
Which will sure be a delight....

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My next brain needs a bigger cow catcher.
The one I have now barely clears wolves and bears.
I want a scoop that will clear a huge swath.
Can push away skyscrapers and fire stairs.
To be able to blade away snowplows too.
Would make my heart leap with sheer crazy joy.
A blade to whisk away all sad, all thoughts of blue.
A fifty-five foot cowcatcher of fun, oh boy!...

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The morning may be messy
For the people who commute,
With highways slick with ice
Before the snowplows clear the route.

For those who will be driving
Some anxiety’s at hand,
‘Cause Nature may disrupt
The travel that you might have planned.

Alternatives start floating – 
Do you heed or take a chance?
The young may risk it but the wise
Bow down to circumstance....

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Winter walks away 
through spring mud 
and melting snow, 
face weighted in frown, 
Napoleon fists unclenched 
in humiliating retreat, 
his Grande Armee of cold, 
ice and wind 
dying on their feet 
utterly depleted 
never to fully recover 

in truth, 
Winter was once 
Emperor, 
outflanking Autumn, 
outsmarting snowplows, 
outraging motorists, 
and quite possibly 
overestimating himself...

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city snow piles in a row
a row of cars
lamp posts
or evenly distributed on a flight of steps

it gives top hats to garbage cans and
fire hydrants and dresses the bare trees
as skimpily clad brides
who lose their veils with a artic shiver

city snow becomes dirty snow 
overnight
snowplows, slush and car grease turn it
grey in the morning

you must catch its silent beauty in the night

02/01/20...

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I needed the silence
No noise from the phone
No snowplows or wind
Branches or ice cracking
Just silence and a breakthrough
For words to return
For worries to leave
For peace to slow time, regularly
To take in my surroundings,
with striking observation
To feel my being in the here and now
Silence brought me what I need somehow
It’s right here in front of me
As my words tip-toe back, pleasantly

Heidi Sands

12/19/21...

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The drifts move their white weight
as if the heaps themselves
were snowplows.

Again the sky dumps afterthoughts,
the packed mounds are remodeled
under new wind-plantings.

When the land is a white-out,
perception seeks color,
every dot of pigmentation
creates a brilliant question mark
on a blank field.

There are freely moving ghosts
in the swirling air.
I listen to the roof creaking,
as they land
looking for their sky-blue eye....

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Snow.
It’s cold.
Sometimes wet.
Sometimes it’s not.
Gets kids out of school.
Grown-ups still have to work.
Driving down the icy street,
Getting stuck behind the snowplows,
Stopping often to clear the windshield,
Hoping that the heater doesn’t break down,
Praying that the parking lot is cleared,
Trying to find an open space.
Cover the hood with plastic,
(Quicker to clean later.)
Then, in your good shoes
You trudge inside
Through the cold
And wet
Snow....

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Brilliant light
 blinding snow delight
fallen quick and fast
 only with cold does it last;
otherwise, it's slipping away
 ice flows of past days
laying easily disturbed
 when children raced passed the curb;
and snowmen groan and moan
 when snowplows take their throne;
just a mid-December day at play
 waiting patiently for that wonderful day
the magic moments' dance
 for the blessed circumstance
of a child babe and newborn king
 what a wonderful blessing....

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