Sunday's Forecast
shovels in hand
we started at opposite ends
of the long sidewalk
outside the Church
moving mountains of pure white snow
making paths safe
we slowly closed
the distance between us
I had to stop
breathless and aching
to look around in wonder
now and then
the muffled world
under its blanket
almost silent save for
the scrape of our shovels
and our laboured breaths
when the tractor came
to plow the parking lot
we were already done
the sidewalks
another inch
had fallen while
we worked.
Don McGonigal
November 2006