Shoveling, scraping, sweeping, chipping
Plumes of smoke issue from his mouth
His small frame, bent over, lifting and dumping the snow
Knit hat and woolen gloves and black rubber boots
His gray hair peaks out and his glasses fog
Wrinkles now stiff with cold
He digs and moves and tosses it in the street
A valiant warrior wins the battle
Victorious, he puts away his shovel and heads to the door
He removes his gloves and takes off his boots
He looks out the window as he unzips his coat
Large white flakes descend before his eyes
The war isn’t over yet he mutters
Redresses and heads to battle again.
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