Thanksgiving day had come and gone,
it was sixty degrees that day....
and has warmed up since.
My cats are confused,
sitting at the screen door
like they did all summer.
But the sun doesn't set at four thirty in July.
And even though I wore shorts today,
an Arctic monster climbs the mountains
and gathers itself to run,
headlong and screaming,
all the way to the Mississippi.....
they predict a foot of snow.
11-30-06
Toni Atchison
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/waiting-for-winter/
