by Terra Osterling | Feb 17, 2013 | How I got "here", Poetry, Writing
Groundhog, you lie. Two weeks since your optimism, Then a northeast snowmageddon. Now, this: more shoveling, base layers, And a whiteout driving home from church. From your hidey hole, Whether in Punxsutawney or under my shed, You feign to predict our meteorological...
