Neighbors
one-by-lonesome-one
venture out
smash driveway ice
wielding pick, shovel, broom, boot
this noise often confused with soft, romantic snow
swoof, crunch, muffle
dark night under foot
these sounds
herald winter’s early phase
December’s pretty nod,
a trickster that precedes loathing
eventual heartsickness
yet the ice-bashers carry on
until the melt
when the sky pales
shades of hope and gray
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