Ode to a Snowbrush

When the winter winds start blowing
And the sky begins its seasonal snowing
I head to the garage on a little quest
To drag an item from its summer nest.

It has languished there since spring appeared
And now is needed; no, revered.
For this one item has potential
To become in winter most essential.

There it is, with all its charm:
With scraper, bristles, and telescopic arm.
I grasp the brush that’s so appealing
And get a very pleasant feeling.

This snowbrush will serve me well
Through months of white and chilly hell.
This simple workhorse gets me through
The winter, so I have a view.

Driving would be very tough
With all of that accumulated stuff
Upon the windows, lights and hood.
No, it would not be very good.

The handle extends extra far
So I can brush six inches from the top of the car.
With a few turns it’s shorter now
To clear the windows like a plow.

Without this vital piece of gear
I’d be homebound much of the year.
My snowbrush lets me keep on going
No matter how much it’s snowing.


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