Winter appears
in my book
Sounds of Life
Winter
February 4, 2007
I hold the copyright on all my works.
I hate our dreaded winters
when it’s under sixty-five
those cold blasts under forty
make it real hard to survive.

I’m a life long desert rat
and really love it hot
when eggs fry on the sidewalk
and melt what all you’ve bought.

Sometime in late November
just when we should give thanks
the cold stuff starts moving in
on Arctic winter banks.

Sure maybe all those snowbirds
are running around in shorts
I’m wrapped up in some warm clothes
and sure not playing any sports.

Those golfers come from all around
like we invited them
developers planted golf courses
and each one I could condemn.

They suck up our scarce water
those greens they build around
I’d much prefer my desert
full of desert loving ground.

Those days of under forty
sure aren’t many that is true
but it seems they last forever
while my skin in turning blue.

Yes I don’t have to shovel
or be careful when I drive
but cold is very relative
with lizards trying to survive.

Winter lasts just way too long
and it has nothing good for me
if I could ban it every year
I would by swift decree.
I’ve never had to shovel snow
or ever thought I’d die
when mound and mounds of the stuff
got piled so very high.

I don’t want to snowmobile
out in the land of white
and I’m sure not skiing down any hills
not my idea of delight.

Sure big fat snowflakes are beautiful
as they gracefully are floating by
but it is all that accumulation
that gives at least a year’s supply.

The children missing school
sure think it is just fine
they even like to slide down hills
and preach it is divine.

They skate outside on frozen ice
in rivers ponds and rinks
no shivering or complaining
no hesitating blinks.

Now my idea of a perfect winter
is temps never under fifty
while some might find that shocking
I’d find it pretty nifty.

As it is I bundle up
with gloves hat scarf and coat
I wish I had a parka
but we are not really that remote.

Just let me feel the warmth of spring
when the temps reach eighty five
the flowers pushing upwards
so happy to be alive.

So if you are in January
and the weather is pretty bleak
just move yourself to Tucson
where our winters are unique.
Rare
fog