Spring Tradition
It was customary in the 70s
To have an April “limb breaker.”
At least two feet of wet snow
Would crush and snap
Tulips and elms.
I couldn’t drive us that day
So Norma and I hiked
From our Avenues homes
To work on Main Street.
We slogged merrily
Down the middle of First Avenue
Through snow up to our knees.
I do mean “merrily”
As we were slackers,
Totally devoid of work ethic.
It was a job to pay the bills,
But a great friendship grew
Between us there.
We strolled past people sweeping
Their cars with brooms. Everyone
Was in a good mood because
We could all take our sweet time.
Our bosses would laud us
For making it to work at all.
Meanwhile, we were thrilled
By globs of dripping snow
Weighing down the branches,
Fat mounds of the stuff
Softening the edges of the city.
Victorian mansions took on
A Norman Rockwell aspect
That quickened their dour faces.
Within a block of our destination,
Norma nudged me into a coffee shop.
“We need sustenance to face the day,”
It was hard to say no.
The freshly-scrubbed air,
The muffled hush over the streets
The hiss of tires through slush
Even a hint of sunlight
Enticed us to delay
For just a few minutes more
Before making that descent
Into the basement
Of the savings and loan.
Photo by Earl Wilson, NY Times 2018