Dang if she did’n run off!
Lookin’ so sweet and all
But she can traipse down the ridge
And disappear quicker ‘n a wild hog.
Left me here
Cryin’ in the ice and snow-
And jes look at them poor old daffs-
Layin’ down liken they was dead.
But she’ll be back, I reckun.
Yep, no doubt about it
She’ll saunter in here
Lookin’ all innocent
And fresh as a new born calf
Smellin’ of lilacs and dog roses
With a circle of sweet grass in her hair.
You bet she’ll be back
Actin’ like she had no idea
We was lookin’ for her
Spring – oh, yeah, she’ll be back.
*** A poem written on another snowy April day a few years ago. Woke this morning to a couple inches of the white stuff decorating the spring flowers. SPRING!