Cabin fever

The storm is gone, my barren lawn
Is covered now in ice
My own driveway, as of this day
Seems to be coated twice.

I'd like to get to Kroger yet
(Although a Marsh is near)
To improvise a few supplies
Until the roads are clear.

I'll chip away again today
To try to make a lane
For car or feet to reach the street
Then store, and home again.

I've asked the sun to help me on
The place that needs it most
So I don't slide on my short ride
Into a mailbox post.

I've tried to chip so I don't slip
But it has been quite rough
To use a blade that was not made
For breaking through this stuff.

I sometimes stand, or use my hand
As feet slip out from under
I haven't bled or hit my head
Which, frankly, is a wonder.

I'd order cleats to reach the streets
And then around the block
But they can't get them to me yet
I haven't cleared my walk.

When next a cloud brings rain around
Or snow, I'll not think twice
I'll gladly play it any way
That isn't fucking ice.