through these walls
the seasons turned but I wasn’t ready for it
I was too busy looking back on the
opportunities I had squandered
brushed aside like slight inequities
rotting into things undone
I knew the snowblower in the garage
wouldn’t start so I put a blanket over it
I brought in the shovels from the shed
the snow may be the death of me I told myself
but I’ll be damned if I can’t still dig
I wasn’t ready to go back into the house
so I pulled out a beer from the fridge
and sat on the workbench
vague images of things undone coming
to mind and mixing with telephones
ringing through these walls
november two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
That snow blower needs a proper wake.
she is so ready to go my friend ;`)
Shovels works fine usually..