Sunday, February 22, 2009

Minnesota Winters - A poem

Shoveling Snow

Pheew! My hydraulic handkerchief went throwing the mucous out of my running nose against the southerly breeze with no success

The entire creamy mass landed partially on my cheeks and the rest found home on the jacket, yak!

With determination I continued to push and push the heap of snow, with my back begging and chest burning

In a moment I asked myself how and why in the whole wide world did I end up in Minnesota of all places.

The harder I pushed the faster the breeze blew my rather short nose and the colder and desperate I felt

All over in the neighborhood, snow blowers trotted as they so easily cleaned their driveways

Often, this was my opportunity to constructively work out, and inhale fresh air; this time around the opportunity was unpalatable and vengeful

Snow blowers in the hood got louder and closer yet no one even tried to fake to help these recent immigrant

Each shovel got heavier and heavier, the slip on several occasions and later a fall made it even more difficult

The harder I pushed the faster the more a begged that someone with one of the loud machines would help this desperate son from the equator

The thought ran through my the head that may be to spare my health I should visit sears to acquire my own machine

Another trend of thought was more consoling, acknowledging that I was half way done and winter will be done shortly

The beauty of white covering the tree branches gave me some reprieve and solace

Wait a minute! Just as I was nearly declaring victory, than the snow plow dumped a huge heap back onto my drive way

Oh no! The drive to push the fluff once more was punctured, but the task ahead of me was cut

Oh!! Snow, how we love sliding, sledging and skating over you, I did know that you take all that in count

On this fateful day, I seemed to have paid prices for all those who’d generated joy and fun out you the entire season

As I retired to the warmth of the house, mugongo was ngoo! While my ears were as dry as the hills of Karamoja

Minnesota even with your harsh winters, I still do know where all my adorations for you come from?

Yes! Minnesota’s winters can be truly harsh and brutal but in you we are seasonally reminded of our true place in nature.

By Figuhr Samedi Kania – January 2007

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