contemplative snow shoveling

A poem by carie beth russell

It's cold.
It's still snowing.
I'm cold. 
 Not enough sleep last night. 
 Scott's pager kept going off.
Darby's tummy hurt.
Maryn had a nightmare about our cats. 
 I need more coffee. 
 My nose is running. 
 Why don't I have gloves? 
 Mittens are a joke.
I hear a snow blower. 
 I want one.
I see a leaf blower.
That's smart.
This is taking forever.
Monotonous.
Monotonous.
Monotonous.
Kindof like a life-size Zen Garden.
I'm in a Zen Garden.
There are deer tracks. 
 That's cool.
Oooh! Look!
What tracks are those?
I wonder if those belong to Maryn's red fox?
Animals all around while I sleep in my bed.
I'm warm.
This hat is awesome. 
 Thank you for this hat Shanda.
My hands are warm too. 
 Thank you for these mittens Mom.
My scarf. Thank you Renee.
I'm almost done with the driveway.
I think I'll do the sidewalks too.