ICR — APril 18, 2021

I used once
a metal shovel to clear the snow from
my car and
despite the obvious
flaw in the plan I did and frustration
mounted
as I worked hard as I could
to break the ice from the hood.
the sharpest parts of the shovel
showed me what mattered and
the snow kept coming.
I told myself
of the anticipated accolades of spring
and one would not be
pride in look
if anything I owned
Whatsoever then
It’’s when
the dimmest lights of my broken ideas have
marked the stars of these nights
where flakes begin and end on
the tips of my fingers
and the swipes of this shovel
are the fight in my hands