Time is short now, As days grow longer. By decree! – (Though, It’s not the hurrying of clock hands Or calendar squares crossed off That makes it so.) Time is short, Never enough. And, time is long. Time is both – Time is neither. Time is, Our waiting… Our… Waiting. Time. Time is, Never what …
Spring
The Marmot’s Fib
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 future. Your shadow hath not that power! (At least consult your Farmer’s Almanac. …
