Rebuilt the low stone wall
which falls in the thaw
as the ground softens.
Finished before dark, stood listening
to the train in the far valley,
and expected new snow.
By the time Mars cleared the trees,
the stones were white again, and
now i am shoveling once more,
Exulting in the wind
and the strength of my hands,
steaming with joy for this day
So different from yesterday,
and warmed by the hope
that tomorrow will have its own pulse.
Change strengthens the heart;
you are reading this poem,
you know what i mean.
