I break ice joyfully with a sledge
hammer, borrowed from my neighbor
who watches in his red pajamas
from his front door across the street.
The ice, the result of sleet and snow
and minus zero temperatures
is thick like concrete. The hammer
bounces against the hardened surface
and nearly kills me in the rebound.
I see the neighbor laugh and call
his wife over to watch this crazy
man, this fool with a sledgehammer bang
against the ice trying to clear the way.
But I don't let them bother me.
I find pleasure in the swing, the strike,
the tiny spray of broken ice sparkling
in the heatless sun. The progress
I am making is small, I admit that,
but I have all day. All winter
to see what I can do about this ice.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment