Our Bipolar Mother

Seasons change, but the dividing line is usually not drawn to sharply.  For every mid-March warm spell, there’s a St. Patrick’s Day blizzard on the way.

 

For this post in what passed for the Spring of 2013, America’s Singsong Poet Laureate, Schuyler Tyler Wyler, climbed into his drafty garret to produce a May Day Ditty.

Embrace the May, but be a cynic.
Mother Nature’s schizophrenic.

She brings us air so sweet and mild,
and then a freezing zephyr wild.

She’ll green some grass, hey nonny nonny,
then kick your ass a little, honey.

Drape floral garlands ’round your feet,
then fill your face with freezing sleet.

Get out and do your May Pole dance,
but put some hot sauce in your pants.

Though May bringst bees and buds to flower
Conditions changeth by the hour.

When has a sudden change caught you unaware?

Published by

Dale Connelly

I am a writer and broadcaster living in the Twin Cities.

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