Pretty soon we"ll be complaining about the winter weather. Since the high was 93 degrees yesterday, I hope it will be sooner rather than later. For a sneak preview, see the poem below.
An Ominous Mass of Clouds
As if Borealis wants to muzzle us.
As if Mother Nature wants to chasten us.
As if a giant hand means to smother us
by dragging a cowl across the sky.
Too soon the cabin moans.
Too soon a merciless throw envelopes the sky.
Too soon the wind attacks the heavy bell to ring
relentlessly.
The indoor lights flicker against a leaden day.
Winter in Wisconsin.
Marilyn Aschoff Mellor
