Queen's Quarterly

Queen's Quarterly
Queen's Quarterly

Snow Plow

Michael Hall

I used to wrestle at my old high.
And now I wrestle with this
Country, which needs winter

As it does the morning.
Fields and woodlots begin
To reveal themselves

Like a map
Reversed to give the sky
Somewhere to form.

North, glows Stratford.
In the east, stars
Are running

Out of chain. Soon Erie
And Main –
Rattling, rumbling, rasping

Beneath. Then
At Tim Hortons, the side streets:
Silent houses at dawn

Stoops restful with snow
Cars sleeping
In beds of driveways

In drifting-sifting yards
Birches straggle

Before, home,
The sun
Poking now its orange sticks

Out working the horizon
Along one side

Of the houses


Michael Hall has lived in St Marys, Ontario, and currently lives in Dunedin, New Zealand. His poems have appeared in journals in Canada, Australia, and New Zealand.