Another Winter to Shovel Snow

When young would shovel snow every season…

Another Winter to Shovel Snow


When young would shovel snow every season

before the plow would drive down our street

and all the shoveling neighbors would meet

to work in the cold for the same reason.

So many memories of giant banks

of snow with my Father dwarfed beneath them

as snow fell wearing winters diadem

as shovel works to thin these snowy ranks.

In Tahoe, Brother, caretaker of home

and shoveler of what this seasons brought

has found an entrance into our childhood.

In crystal memory the flakes will roam

before a shovel many winters fought

to break, our winter struggles where we stood.

My father prospected the cold for joy…


My father prospected the cold for joy

of wearing knitted hat with pom on top

while building paths to walk across the crop

in morning when the sunrise begs employ.

While Mother cooked breakfast for his work

and energy for boys to move outside

to watch the children build with playful pride

an intricate snow fort from this framework.

My father finally admits he’s old

and leaves the shoveling to us, his sons,

while Mother guarantees he’s comfortable.

His reason slipping as the days unfold

in snow gear we will know we are the ones,

our legacy to free while still able.

We’ve seen these snow banks five feet or taller…


We’ve seen these snow banks five feet or taller

before this season of the heavy snow

a time when snow banks marked when we would grow

and shovels used like summer lake trawler.

These stories fall upon the ground each year

to layers as the night passes to day

so many years these walls make it to May

to live a life in snow forts without fear.

I dedicate these words to my brother

whose found the joy in keeping promises

of heritage and love within our roots.

This snow as memory of my father

his gift to us these snowy provinces

to create with our shovels snowy shoots.

So I have started to maintain my land….


So I have started to maintain my land

a piece of land I’ve bought to call our own

a central point where children leave to roam

with shovel every winter take a stand.

When outside clearing off my sidewalk snow

I watch my son trying to move his sled

or make an angel out of his snow bed

and feel the bite of wind, the chilly blow.

Some lessons take a lifetime to sink in

in ways that make our stories hard to tell

an intricate snow fort from the framework.

Within the snow I feel how things have been,

each crystal chanting out this winter spell,

I shovel with a meditating smirk.

Jamie Lee Hamann
Latest posts by Jamie Lee Hamann (see all)

Jamie Lee Hamann

Things have changed over the years. My name is Jamie Lee Hamann and I have a passion for writing short fiction and poetry. I started writing for TCE around 2015 and since then I have finished two collections of poetry "Six Years of Service" and "The Rhyme of the Ancient Middle Class" both available on Amazon and plans for more. I share a weekly poem for TCE every Saturday. I started work on my first novel and I am using TCE to share my progress as I go. I share new excerpts of this work every weekend. A Science Fiction novel that I hope is enjoyable to read. I currently live in Lemmon Valley NV with my family. I am excited to share my poetry and my writing. If you desire to find my other work on the internet feel free to stop by my website The website offers articles on poetry, poems, and links to all my other writing.

3 thoughts on “Another Winter to Shovel Snow

  • March 30, 2019 at 4:36 PM

    How well I remember when very young walking through paths that meandered through very deep snow. I would look up at very tall walls of snow higher than I could reach. It was fun trying to find the path to the chicken house or the barnyard. That was in the Pacific Northwest where we lived on a farm east of the Cascades. Your poems brought back so many memories, Jamie. This is a well written piece and I so enjoyed reading it. Thank you for sharing.

  • April 2, 2019 at 8:14 PM

    Despite the snow wonderful winter memories. I have mine from the days I lived in Latvia and I am glad now for the Florida sunshine.


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