Cast a Cold Eye

These coats with the Arctic emblem on the sleeve...
Am I supposed to actually believe
They’re suitable for traipsing through the snow
On the North Pole when it’s thirty two below?

Every Winter

Every winter
I find I have placed
An extra inch
Around my waist.
Fat cells do well
As insulation,
And in the water
They aid flotation.
But when I step
Upon the scale,
The gain of five
Always feels like a fail!

Running Free

At one thirty in the morning
My dog once again barked a warning.
This time I was rewarded with a view of the fox
Running in the snow for a couple of blocks.
I thought it was a good time to slip back into bed,
But “yip yip yip” is what the fox said.

Not My Path

How odd to be raised as a royal,
Starting from when you're a tyke.
We are symbols, and you must be loyal!
I wonder what that must be like.


Is it true that all can code?
Excuse me for feeling doubt.
I've lived my life on that road,
But most people seem to bail out.


I wish I had a neighbor
With a functioning light saber.
I’d borrow it to trim my trees
And chase off raccoons with the greatest of ease.


Will there be sufficient stuff
To rhyme about in 2020?
What if somehow there’s not enough?
I’m betting there will be plenty.

Deep Winter

January and February
Are the months that rhyme with scary.
The air is cold, the flowers wilted,
All because this planet’s tilted!