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Monday, December 27, 2010

A Post Blizzard Poem

The sun is out now
Mocking us with her ineffective warmth.

Oh, I know how you work
"Sun"
You'll melt the snow on our neighbor's side of the street
First.



Then, given that we bought a house
On a street with a "gentle" slope (and paid too much for it)
Our neighbor's runoff will "run off" onto our property
And freeze overnight.

When I awaken tomorrow in the morn
And venture forth onto the driveway to retrieve
The mess of fliers from CVS, Pathmark and the Liquor Depot (New Year's Eve approacheth)
I will take a spill...a very bad spill.
One requiring heat...or is that ice? 

My pride and coccyx will ache
But not enough to garner me any major sympathy
In a house where I am the only female
And apparently the only one who knows how to
Microwave a plate of macaroni and cheese.

I curse your warmth, oh sun.

2 comments:

  1. Oh Joan, you are too funny. Here's my response 'poem'...

    I too liveth in the only house with a gentle slope
    On a street filled with trees that block and mock the sun.
    It is thus called 'The Woodlands' so as to verify this fact.

    Above this hill
    Which in years past has drawn every child with their sled
    Into the path of cars
    Brave (stupid) enough to skid down
    A street that will never see a snow plow
    Sits my charming home

    This home sports with pride
    The steepest roof line
    Of its neighbors

    It has been know to host a strange young neighbor boy
    Who felt compelled to ski down the slope

    Thank goodness we are now old
    The neighbor children have grown to young adults
    And thus fled the nest

    Oh, woe, even if they were still near
    They would be too lazy to lift a shovel
    My poor aching back.

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  2. Oh Judi - I never knew you had such talent! I think we should talk about a possible collaboration - maybe if we work really hard, we can self publish a little tome and sell it at the next Hadassah meeting!

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