Shovel? Maybe Later

Sometimes, it seems, I have this thing about "going against the season."

A couple of times a year it happens ... in summer ... and winter. Spring and fall? Hardly ever.

What do I do? Oh, when we're sizzling in summer temperatures, I like to think about those cool ... er, cold ... days and nights of winter.

And in the winter, of course, when I'm freezing ... I keep my mittens on ... and try writing something about summer.

So ... I should have my mittens on today ... and I probably will, when I catch a glimpse of the winter sun and decide to venture out for my daily walk.

We don't have snow (knock on wood) ... but we certainly have winter temperatures ... in the single digits, I understand (I haven't even looked at the thermometer yet).

Meanwhile, here's a winter poem that I may hold to my fevered brow in the peak of summer months:

Shovel? Maybe Later

From door to street

Isn't all that far,

But with a sleet-

And snow-bound car

Stuck in the drive,

I might just as well

Take another five

And snooze a spell.

© 1995

(originally published in Mature Living)

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Today's word: later