By Keith W. Norris
One week old fallen snow
Looks like a layer of Styrofoam
Crunches with each step
Like a bed of Doritos
And the groundhog saw his shadow.
Newly formed pothole
Big enough to be a submarine hatch
Filled with muddy water
Splashed on me by a Buick
And the groundhog saw his shadow.
Black ice-covered sidewalk
Sprinkled with rock salt
That doesn’t work below freezing
And gives the squirrels high blood pressure
And the ground hog saw his shadow.
The icy wind
Cuts through my layers
Even my coat’s zipper
And my week-old beard are frozen
And the groundhog saw his shadow
The weather forecast calls for more snow
Kroger is out of milk, eggs, and toilet paper
The weatherman says there will be no warming trend
Until Friday the thirteenth. I don’t believe in superstitions,
But the groundhog saw his shadow.
Keith W. Norris is an insurance claims professional by day and a poet by night. He is a graduate of Western Kentucky University and attended the Naslund-Mann School of Writing at Spalding University. He lives in Moraine, Ohio.
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