Old Man Winter must have slept in
Or, maybe he sighed
Perhaps, he just rolled over ...
Whatever the reason, he granted pardon.
Dreams of Spring
Hatched into Summer
Sorting ensued
So did home repairs (well, kinda*)
Children and their mothers tilted faces upward
And smiled
A white plastic bag caught the ides of March early -- "A parachute," Haven shouted as he whipped it over head.
***
*About the pot: Our handy neighbor Jimmer mentioned sometime back that we should "cover that hole" -- the one that's really a pipe sticking up in the yard; he said something about a sewer; something about sticks and leaves getting in it and how that's really, really bad.
So I went out that day with the only thing I could find -- a pot -- and plopped it on top. The short of it is I've always had a hankering to adorn the thing and finally did so today. Personally, I'm pleased with the result as I look at it as art and a valuable social message in one tidy little package -- oh, that and a thing to "cover that hole" with as well -- voila! Once again, thanks be to Jim -- him and a snoozing Old Man Winter.
1 comment:
That paint job only serves as cementing evidence that you do indeed have strains of Martha. (There must be a temperament for that...)
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