Ode to Dad and Shovels

He is a man of winter

If ever there was one

He pushes, plows, and clears all snow

Before the morning sun

 

He is a man of winter

So, his advice I’d heed

Shall I buy a shovel, Dad?

“Oh, that, you will not need”

 

I hmmed and hawed and questioned

For I, too, am of the North

Let it rest, for dads know best

I’ve no shovel, for what it’s worth.

 

Then the blizzard came

Full force and a foot of snow

I’d balance bags and boxes

Through tall drifts, I would go

 

Dad said I wouldn’t need it

He claimed that I’d be fine

So, I ordered it late, on a plane I’d wait

A plane that still hasn’t arrived

 

My shoveling is done

All’s well, a few days later

I’ve learned from my mistakes

And am thankful for my neighbor