I don’t know what this means.
We live in Southern Nevada, and it’s beautiful here. Our spring, really. Between 50-60 degrees by day, sunny, with blue skies and singing birds.
For some reason, I am feeling like I’m in limbo. Perhaps I just need a good “snow day.”
Varmint is one of my favorite words. I don’t even know why, but it is. It sounds funny. We say to the boys…”you’re a stinky varmint!” or “you little varmint, I’m going to kiss your face off”
Also, if you need a snow day my friend, come for a visit. Pennsylvania is covered in snow. 🙂
I liked this poem, not the waiting, but the words.
Burr-ows. Burr-rows. Two kinds of rows. Wait, three.
You have placed the indented “of” directly beneath the “x” in “six,” which makes me think you’re secretly saying “kiss of[f]” to that varmint. Or maybe you’re sending a sneaky message to some dude that the kiss is off. It was on, but now it’s off. You’re breaking up with him. But then there’s that hanging “waiting.” Like you’re waiting for his reply. Or maybe you’re waiting for your period, so you might be pregnant. Maybe you’re ticked and him for knocking you up. This is reinforced by that big fact line break after “and we get.” Winter has you mating and possibly making babies. 😉
I’ve never understood it – if he sees his shadow that must be because it’s a sunny day, right? And if it’s cloudy he’s not going to see the shadow at all, no hope. So it seems like it should be opposite — in any event, we need to look at the bright side – it’s ONLY six more weeks 🙂
I don’t know what this means.
We live in Southern Nevada, and it’s beautiful here. Our spring, really. Between 50-60 degrees by day, sunny, with blue skies and singing birds.
For some reason, I am feeling like I’m in limbo. Perhaps I just need a good “snow day.”
Varmint is one of my favorite words. I don’t even know why, but it is. It sounds funny. We say to the boys…”you’re a stinky varmint!” or “you little varmint, I’m going to kiss your face off”
Also, if you need a snow day my friend, come for a visit. Pennsylvania is covered in snow. 🙂
I liked this poem, not the waiting, but the words.
Burr-ows. Burr-rows. Two kinds of rows. Wait, three.
You have placed the indented “of” directly beneath the “x” in “six,” which makes me think you’re secretly saying “kiss of[f]” to that varmint. Or maybe you’re sending a sneaky message to some dude that the kiss is off. It was on, but now it’s off. You’re breaking up with him. But then there’s that hanging “waiting.” Like you’re waiting for his reply. Or maybe you’re waiting for your period, so you might be pregnant. Maybe you’re ticked and him for knocking you up. This is reinforced by that big fact line break after “and we get.” Winter has you mating and possibly making babies. 😉
I love turning “sees his” into “see-shys.”
I’ve never understood it – if he sees his shadow that must be because it’s a sunny day, right? And if it’s cloudy he’s not going to see the shadow at all, no hope. So it seems like it should be opposite — in any event, we need to look at the bright side – it’s ONLY six more weeks 🙂