However silent was the falling snow,
By dawn, the sounds of work had come upon,
And as he worked, the morning light began
At breaking up the silence of the night —
The scraping of the shovel on the steps,
The heaving of the snow onto the pile,
The puff of landing from the shovel-throw.
He knocked the shovel clean when he was done,
And later, after he had gone to rest,
Was Annalisa knocking at the door.
“This morning I went out to clear the steps
To find someone had shoveled them by then,
And I was even up at six a.m.
To see it done. I came to ask if it
Was you, my dear, and now I see the shovel
Melting on the mat beside your door —
Still, I’d been certain it was you.
I know these other folks, they’re nice and all,
But not the kind to do a thing like that.
In twenty years, no one’s done it but me.
How kind of you to think to do a thing.”
“It’s nothing. But if it’s something to you,
I’m glad. I used to shovel snow when I
Was growing up, and it’s a habit now
To help whenever there is work to do.
I’d say it’s how I show my gratitude,
In keeping up the place you let me stay.”
“I would have known. You didn’t seem to be
Inexperienced with things like these,
The way I’d seen you cleared the snow today.
But what is this about ‘letting you stay’?
My dear, I am a landlady, no more —
You have your rights the same as anyone.
I trust you know you do not owe me this.”
Annalisa drew her arms across
Her chest, in making a thing understood.
“Yes, you’re right, I know it all the same,
That if I never cleared the steps again,
Neither could you ask it then of me
Or hold the task against what we agreed.
That is not what keeps me up these winter
Nights. It only seems that when I go
And get to clear a foot or so of snow
From off the walkway and the couple steps,
I feel a little better that it’s done
And not just left to someone else like you.
I’d say there is a little pride as well.
I don’t have much to work that is my own
Or I can claim the caring for as mine,
So just a walkway and a couple steps
To clear are nice to make a little work.
Unless you feel the same as I have said,
Perhaps you’ll let me stay and clear the steps.”
Annalisa saw the morning light
Awake upon the windows by the door.
“Of course, my dear. I’ll leave it to you then.
All I ask is that when you are done,
You’ll let me put the salt down afterward —
To make it so our two has worked as one,
As all the work of neighbors should be done.”
Here they found an understanding of
Each other, in conversing at the door,
And broke the silence that was lingering
In contemplation, of the shoveling
That would be done, or had already been,
And troubled him when snow and night did fall
As one, and there was only one to work,
And troubled Annalisa in the morning.
Annalisa smiled and, departing,
Went to put the salt down on the steps.