Sandy Conlon: Ode to the Plowmen |

Sandy Conlon: Ode to the Plowmen

Here’s to the plowmen who scrape our streets
Way down to the rocks and bare concrete;
So thorough they are, for joy I must leap
Over the snow pile that buries my Jeep.

Undaunted, faithful when snow fills our town
The persistent plowmen don’t let us down;
Over roads slushy or powdery light,
They sometimes must work very late at night.

There is no end to the plowmen’s bliss
As residential driveways they seldom miss;
They are jolly, bold, kindhearted, and brave,
And to the plowmen my shovel I wave.

Keeping roads clear is no easy matter
For the boys of winter in trucks that clatter;
Yet watching them carefully plow everything,
I secretly pray for an early spring.

With much gratitude to David VanWinkle and his great crew of plowmen.

Sandy Conlon

Steamboat Springs

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