Letter: A poem for essential workers
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
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
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
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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