That
Groundhog’s
An immoral tease,
Whose agents have us on our knees,
“He knows!” the public howls with gusto...
Sucked in to render public trusto!
Jack Frost, behind the scenes, sucks breath...
Plotting our cold and icy death,
Gathering strength to hurl a blast...
More avalanches built to last!
The TV cameras grind and whirr,
As Mister Woodchuck, swathed in fur,
Is swept up into February,
Confused,
Bemused, and solitary.
He didn’t know he had a shadow...
He once confessed to Rachel Maddow.
With interviewers droning on
He eyes us with a fuzzy yawn.
Soon! Soon! The breezes lose their sting:
Soon! Soon! The sweet return of Spring!
But, whatever the groundhog does each year,
Alas...won’t change the weather here.