This poem is part of the Great Lakes Review’s Narrative Map project.
We got
9 inches of snow
after 4 was predicted.
While driving home from work
I pulled over to the side,
knowing I’d get stuck,
but a black Chrysler
was beached in the intersection
spinning nowhere.
I started pushing on their trunk
then two other people
scampered up to lean in
and soon they were sliding away.
You don’t thank the other strangers
who also push a stranger’s
car out of the snow,
more nod and smile
at having completed
an unpreferable task
together.
My car was beached
on the 9 inches of snow
so I grabbed my shovel from the backseat
and started shoveling out
underneath my front bumper,
around the front tires,
under the doors.
then from behind
I heard a man’s voice suggest
that I get in and try, he’d push.
I turned toward the voice, then said,
“Oh hey Tony.”
He looked at me for a second,
“Oh hi Ed.”
Chuckling into the driver’s seat,
while tossing the snow shovel
on the passenger seat floor,
that I have the kind of friends
who offer to help
before they recognize you.
Ed Makowski
Ed Makowski is a poet and writer living in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. He writes and edits at a nature center and makes drinks at a tiki bar. Ed prefers two wheels to four, but it's really nice to drive in a car throughout winter.