As I sit on my front porch,
Hoping to be struck by inspiration
From the heavens above perhaps,
All I can think of is my new jacket
With seater underneath
That are keeping me oh, so warm.
It's not even winter yet
And the mercury will drop below 30 tonight.
The trees that were so delightful a week ago,
Clothed in their red, yellow, and orange garments
Are now a sign of the darkness and gloom
That we must endure for the next 3 months.
With their bare, gangly limbs,
Sagging in their naked shame and despair.
Their leaves are now withering brown
On my lawn that I just raked yesterday.
I miss the sounds of the birds and cicadas
That once filled the summer air.
A dog barking in the distance--
Probably aching from the cold
With frozen snot hanging from his nose--
Is the only sign of life in this God-forsaken place.
Now I know why the settlers of this land
Look so grim in portraits.
God, I miss Florida.
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1 comment:
brilliant. i just imagined us both with a meerschaum by a fireplace escaping the harsh reality of gangly life and frozen snot. God Florida misses you.
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