Looking out the window I can see
vistas that seem to stretch beyond
my neighbor's backyard. All winter
he and I have barely glimpsed one
another in the falling snow...
Andre, my neighbor, behind his machine,
goggles on and snow clouds flying,
as he plows through windrows of lake effect
snow. He sweeps clean driveway and sidewalk
so our postman can deliver stuff we glance at
and deposit in the garbage can.
Then I think of angels that descend
on gasoline powered machines
to make our way clear!
The first hint of spring
in tiny green sprouts
uncovered!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem