There is a subtle peace
In putting shovel to drive
The spread blanket of white lain down
Softens the sounds around
Dampens footfalls and traffic beyond
While you work a steady line
Plastic tip or metal strip
Meet concrete beneath the brilliant sheet
The constant push
The quiet scrape
Accented by plush plops
Dripping from your broad tool
As piles are made beside
Though this way is greater
Both in effort and in time
Than following behind
A quick cacophonous machine
It affords a space for the soul to quiet down
Racing thoughts fall like flakes
As your body works your mind rests
Decrease the layer and raise up the heaps
Unfrost the cake topped with cars
Your mind settles
Your body finds the rhythm
Of the shovel and the snow
And the pavement below
