Sandy Conlon: Ode to scoria |

Sandy Conlon: Ode to scoria

Ode to Scoria

O Scoria!

I slide if not foria

Over the roads both icy and cold

Just seeing you makes me bold.

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It matters not how steep the hill,

You always nicely fill the bill;

Sand and gravel the size of peas

This winter driver does not please.

Give me cinders from lava rock

Thrown randomly around the clock;

At every stop sign drop them down,

Cast them on roads outside of town.

They don't disappear when the cold wind blows,

And cars can find them even when it snows;

For the novice on highways covered with ice,

Driving on scoria is really quite nice.

So bring on the trucks with chutes that scatter

For driving in winter is no laughing matter;

When they spread you around, O sweet scoria,

Our winter life is filled with euphoria.

Sandy Conlon

Steamboat Springs

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