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February 25, 2014

Oh, that last first month
of this chilled year
frozen pipes
more to come, we fear!

On I slog, each day seems slow
like an elderly dog, whom, if you may,
no longer walks or likes to play
but rather makes yellow snow.

Look out the window
whaddya know?
Have a look-see, boys and girls!
Scurrying deftly atop crust snow
go three fat-assed squirrels.

Now look at them try
oh, how they toil!
Iím a happy guy
for them I did foil.

Nothingís more fun
no, none could be sweeter
than when I was done
no squirrels in bird feeder!