I hear the snowplow’s rumble
 in the muffled grayish dawn
 and inside it brings an echo,
 a mix of sigh and yawn

 in an hour I hear its earthquake
 still nestled in, just so
 but as I lurch to vault the bedclothes
 my spine shrieks out its “No!”

 I lay back, smile, remember:
 Ah, Tuesday’s silky glide
 on green-black ice so hardened
 by the mercury’s downward slide

 Long skating, then the signal
 it was time to don my shoes
 but still I turned yet outward
 and plied those fluid moves.

 I thought of skating backwards
 a joy all skaters know,
 smooth swaying, pushing backward
 and not knowing where you go.

 In an instant: staring skyward,
 head dizzy, back in pain
 I remembered last-year’s listing
 of what not to do again.

 but let’s give our deep heart credit
 she may know a thing or two:
 to take life to the limit
 and later pay what’s due.

                                              (Photo Bob Lombardo)