Snow Removal Irony
Another blizzard, another day off. I brush a half inch of water out of the garage before I start the snow-crusted Toro. The hum of the four-cycle motor fills the frigid air.
The blower casts a jet of encrusted snow to the slope side of the driveway. I follow up its work with a snow shovel. The scrape of the shovel as it plows residue to the sides somehow fills the air, too.
No sooner am I finished — inside, showered, catching my breath — than frozen rain falls.
off the fresh driveway sheen
more by FRANK J. TASSONE
photograph by Philip Gielda