A Better Way of Life

I've been thinking.  I ought to become
A bear.  I have no use for winter.  I don't
Like the cold.  It hurts my hands.  The snow
Has no appeal, as I don't ski.  I find it
Irritating.  I don't see much good in the days
Being short, in the hoopla surrounding
Christmas.  I sit out these months morosely,
Waiting for warmth, and leaves and flowers,
The heady odors of growth, to return.  I may
As well mimic the bears and sleep through
This terrible time of the year, waking only
After it's passed, and a world I'd rather inhabit
Surrounds me again.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 42 times
Written on 2023-01-06 at 10:36

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Sona The PoetBay support member heart!
Cool thought!

josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
But then you wouldn’t be able to write this great poem for us to enjoy!

arquious The PoetBay support member heart!
Hibernating is quite catching even more when the climate suits!