What winter left behind
By Lou Blodgett
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The weather’s made a notch toward warm.
The sun’s more evident.
Mosquitoes nowhere near a swarm.
Winter came and went.
Thinner clothes are coming soon.
If I may be so bold.
My cap looks like a mushroom
and my scarf makes me look cold.
There’s a mask in old hydrangea.
Fluttering in the wind.
There since the pandemic, and ya
can get dizzy with its spin.
It will, some day, fulfill a task.
A whirly bird in trouble, which
will spy and tack into that mask
and safely land in yonder ditch.
The robins dig for worms
‘neath fresh snow and quickening soil.
I anticipate in three-months term
the birds will bring less toil.
There’s something on the bike path.
Fido really had to go.
He heard: “Go on. Poo, dear,”
so how was he to know?
A daisy seed will land there
on the offending peat.
A flower will make a stand there
and leave things smelling sweet.
When young, I used to joke and say
“I have the chilblains. Lordy be.”
With the way things stand today,
now the joke’s on me.
There are marshmallows from Lucky Charms
on the post office stoop.
They all reside in a Zip-Lock bag.
At least they aren’t poop.
I can’t see how good can come from this.
I mean, isn’t there a law?
Just another thing, strange and amiss,
I wish I could unsaw.
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