on the second day
after the second severe storm
just as we ran out of places
to pile the snow in the alley—
the weight straining
the neighbor’s six-foot fence
as we scrambled
to make the most
of each property line—
when the garbage truck
got stuck with the dumpster
and we made peace with deep ruts
of ice and dirty slush
and spinning wheels and
desperate prayers from
disparate souls at night,
hoping for a break from
the cold and a clearing
in the one lane track
for the two-way traffic.
Thus, Lent lengthens
the human spirit, the hidden
alley where God’s grace
sees the heart through
a life of mere fits and starts.
……………..
the alley
by troy cady
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