When I scrape ice
Off of my windshield,
The hourglass running out
Takes any ease and tosses it
Out the nearest window.
Maybe I should've gotten
Up with the sun
To let my car awaken too,
Defrosting the layer of ice,
Making rolling droplets
Warm up to their
Everchanging form.
But waking up early was
Not written in the plan today.
So after dressing in layers
Fit for outside,
I wielded the ice scraper,
A capable weapon.
My fingertips are kissed numb
Because I forgot gloves.
I always do.
If only I'd woken up a bit earlier
I could've spared myself
The trouble.