Shovels of laughter

winter wonderland
in snow as high as his knees
and light as a pixies' dusting

he started it,
and they all slowly
drifted outside,
partly because of
embarrassment
sighing, grunting
wiping the week
from their eyes

he was an immigrant
she was a piano teacher
he was a professor
among others
of different persuasions

silence at first,
shoulders aching
into small waves of hello
to eventual laughter
and neighbourly understanding

and she was too old,
one of the first ones
on the block
but thankful enough
to encourage and
suggest strategies
for how one
shovels and builds
social connection
in a time that was getting
much too dark