Counted Toward My Karma

Shoveling snow in the alley
behind the garage.
Full of morning gladness

at the brim, I’ll say—five inches, but very
light. The alley-plow guy charges
our block some amount each winter to plow the alley—

he’ll plow later today,
I guess (I imagine a horse-pulled sledge,
but it’ll be a truck-pushed plow-blade).

What if I made someone’s morning gladder
by going to the foolishly-large
effort of shoveling my whole alley

garage-door side of
the first tire rut?
Full as I am of morning gladness

at the brim, I wonder if the plowman
will notice my hard
work and try not to bury
my garage again. Small price for gladness!