Well, this morning I am cold-
Fingers are chilled to the bone.
I've slipped my socks and shoes on.
Has old man winter come at last?
Or, is it just a fact that-
the sun is tired-
Has laid his head to rest.
Readying for a death of season
Rejoice in rebirth of reason!
To move, and strive, and live again!
The citrus blooms,
As the clover spreads.
The coyotes howl
and the rattlesnake beds.
I shall not lay down my head.
For there is more left to do-
the season begins so soon-
Time draws down another moon.
Janey - Nov. 2012
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