I love this poem! It really describes how many of us feel I think, about being cooped up too long in the midst of the snow that has covered us all up. It was written by Joseph Hesch.
It’s not that I wish
my creaky old bones
could still maneuver
a shovel full of snow
like a martial arts master
slicing the chrysanthemum air
with fancy sword or spear.
I’d be quite content never
again to clear pathways of
the imperialist white interloper
overtaking my home.
But the spray of snow
from the spout of a blower
carving egress from
my fevered cabin
sometimes entrances me
like watching the flowing silk
streaming from the ends
of those blades swung in
harmonious soft and hard
by Righteous and
Harmonious Fists.
I’ve believe I’ve been
cooped up here too long.
Dori Lane 
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