Thought Wheel

From the mind of Ann Chiappetta

For The First Snow Fall

| Filed under Poem

Snow Plow
Prismatic chips clatter against glass frames
wind-driven, opaque collections
heaped to infinity.
Blacktop and tarmac await the scrape
As Gea tucks in sleepy grassesWith frosty, hibernate hands.
chink-a-chink
Metal dentures rumble past
chink-a-chinkchink-a-chink
Steel maw cleaves the twilight
Rows of white topped ground unmasked.
Ann Chiappetta © 1994

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