Blizzard of Boston
(2/21/2015, after three blizzards, 10 feet of snow in Boston.)
by W. Wayne Lin

Every household needs a roofer.
Here comes winter, the whole city is frozen.
Every home is a refrigerator, ice piles up to the windows,
to the roof, every basement is a freezer. Snow is having
too much fun, taking time to sleigh down the pitch roof,
and the next snow runs over to pile up, freezing at the eaves.
The sky is a big ice box, the eaves corral the ice into a rink
with icicles overhanging the windows.

Every household needs a roofer. No one answers the calls,
every man who can bang a hammer, or scoop a shovel, is up
on the roof to clear some channels for the next snowfall
to slip down to the ground. Every elder inside is cooking
and feeding the kids, peeking through the icicles and
telling kids to grow taller, quicker to help daddy
clear the roof before the snow buries the windows.

Every household needs a roofer. Every man, pale face,
exhausted body. Every minute of the weekend
on the roof, a race to lighten the overweight rooftop
before it collapses prior to Monday morning.
The whole city is digging, pounding the stubborn
sleet and the icicle beards all over the windows.

Every household needs a roofer. The president shall
declare a national disaster, deploy all idle roofers
from California* to respond to the call. In the meantime,
no mention of the word ”snow” in tonight’s conversation.
Let’s talk about #12 and the New England Patriots. That will
keep us warm to see beyond all these windows.


*2015 was the 4th year of drought in California.