Winter vs. private transportation
The plow-blade lane's not quite the same
As where I'd drive when roads are sane,
But snowfall hides the road today
And so I look for asphalt grey
Whereon to wriggle 'round the turns
As hatchbacks wait like snakes in urns
To pop out from behind snowdrifts,
While minivans who drive like gits
In rain or shine, hail, sleet, or snow,
Beside me, left and right, they go,
Only to stop for semi-trucks
That waddle through the turns like ducks
(Dromornithids,
that feast on men)
Then, going, let me go again,
Until my car and I regain
Our home along the plow-blade lane.