A poem for Groundhog Day

Note: Phil DID NOT see his shadow this morning.

Groundhog sleeps
All winter
Snug in his fur,
Dreams
Green dreams of
Grassy shoots;
Of nicely newly nibbly
Roots -
Ah, he starts to
Stir.
With drowsy
Stare
Looks from his burrow
Out on fields of
Snow.
What's there?
Oh no.
His shadow. Oh,
How sad!
Six more
Wintery
Weeks
To go. 

Lilian Moore