Lo, the sweet home lights are burning
They are burning clear and bright,
They twinkle and they beckon:
“Come home this cold, dark night!”
I see their beams not far away
Across the snowy sea
But alas, my car is anchored here
At driveway’s end, unfree —
The shovel, it doth twist and scrape
At waves of ice and snow
How long the van will sit here
I confess, I do not know.
The month of February 2019 has gifted Minnesotans with 31.5 inches of snow!
I sat in a heated car, thinking up this poem, while my dear son shoveled us out.
(There was only one shovel.)