Shovel

The winds begin to gust
Covering the roads in a snowy dust
With each snow shovel thrust
I fuel my wanderlust

The sky blanketed in white
Well, that defines my plight
Not able to see what lies beyond here
Beckons the source of my Fear

My lungs filled with chilled air
I lose myself in a far off stare
The icy snow encrusts my hair
As I wonder what’s out there

With each snow scoop and shovel
I see further into my trouble
I say I want to run wild and free
But I welcome my comfort and security

My locks now frozen over
I call upon my inner rover
Leaving everything I once knew
I’m going. Without you

 

Running/Shoveling across the World: Childhood Home in Middletown, NJ

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