Letter: A poem for essential workers

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To the Editor:

On a snowy morning last month, my hope was restored when I saw my father-in-law Duane pulling up before dawn to plow our driveway. I was reminded of all the essential workers still selflessly serving the public — farmers, postal workers, grocery workers, healthcare workers, and many more. It's comforting to know the world goes on in spite of the challenges and uncertainty we all face.


I lay in bed this morning, worried

about the state of the world when I turned

to find a pair of headlights slicing

through the predawn darkness at the end

of our driveway, and knew my father-in-law

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had come to plow us out after last night's

sudden snowstorm. Bless you, I said

to the cab of his truck, to his steady hands

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on the wheel, marked by years of carpentry,

to cigarette smoke embedded in the seats

and steam curling up from the plastic lid

on his cup of gas station coffee. To this man

who loves us enough to make our house

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his first stop, who can be counted on

even in the middle of a March nor'easter

before the sun's a wink over the mountains,

lowering his plow-blade to scrape us a path

out into the hope of a brand-new day.

James Crews, Shaftsbury

The writer is the author and editor of five books of poetry, including Healing the Divide: Poems of Kindness and Connection.


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