The Snow Plow

by James W. Spain, II


Alone on the dark road
while others sleep,

from one driveway to
the next just down the road,

the ice-covered wiper blades
scrape in unison along with the radio in

the overheated truck cab
tempting me to sleep for a while.

The coffee has been endless
and the last cup has gone cold.

Bitter north winds are sweeping
the snow against lonely white pasture fences.

The four wheel drive
grasps at the frozen earth seeking traction

while the cold blade scrapes across the frozen
driveway in search of pavement.

Back and forth, back and forth
until the new dawn.

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