Groundhog day - Thursday, February 2nd 2023

The date of the celebration
(the second day of February) coincides

with medieval feast of Candlemas,

and its pre-Christian predecessor,

Imbolc, a day also rich in folklore.

 

An old Scottish prophecy foretells

sunny weather on Candlemas

means a long winter.

 

The tradition is recounted in this poem:

As the light grows longer
The cold grows stronger
If Candlemas be fair and bright
Winter will have another flight
If Candlemas be cloud and snow
Winter will be gone and not come again
A farmer should on Candlemas day
Have half his corn and half his hay
On Candlemas day if thorns hang a drop
You can be sure of a good pea crop.

 

Punxsutawney Phil is the focal point

of oldest and largest annual

Groundhog Day celebration,

held in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania,

every year since 1886.

 

Members of Phil’s “Inner Circle”

claim he is now 137 years old,
(rumor circulates this one groundhog lived

to make weather prognostications

since 1886, sustained by drinks

of "groundhog punch"

or "elixir of life" administered

at annual Groundhog

Picnic in the fall),

hence thanks to said magical

life-extending serum

they feed him each year—

and his predictions

one hundred percent accurate.

 

Groundhog day - Thursday, February 2nd 2023

 

Coincides with astronomy's
first cross-quarter day,

marking the midpoint between

winter solstice and
spring (vernal) equinox,

which will occur at 5:24 PM on

in Northern Hemisphere

Eastern Standard Time

Monday, March 20, 2023

 

Small consolation old man winter

spans fewest days

of all four seasons,

especially when

 

A powerful nor'easter

will develop in western Atlantic

beginning late Friday,

(February third two thousand
and twenty three)

bringing heavy snow,

strong winds and

coastal flooding to parts

of the East Coast,

but there remains

a larger than usual amount

of uncertainty in forecast

for this storm.

 

Yours truly remembers

when spry Jack (hoar) Frost

(just yea high -

both arms stretched to sky)

came early, left late and bossed

zealous vernal equinox

rattling barenaked lady branches

obviously inapropos

to budding friendship.

 

Now (courtesy global warming/ climate change)

mother nature experiences feeling strange

within valleys and atop many mountain range,

wherein goods traded away on stock exchange.

 

Fortunate concerning yours truly

versus daring to brave

inclement treacherous weather

getting stranded in the process

(possibly becoming gratefully dead)

risking life and limb venturing forth

 

amidst near whiteout conditions

creating debacle perilous and grave

shoveling snow lest he get buried

he can remain holed up

(in tandem with the missus)

snug as a bug in his mancave.

 

While nestled inside warm abode for awhile

(at least until temperature upwards doth dial

safely ensconced against elements (of style),

I stopped at metaphoric woods edge

trekking until... for no rhyme nor reason

the poetic metered equivalent,

viz another mile

then stopped for coffee break

 

burst of energy gave me cause to smile

fording imponderable stream of consciousness

impossible (airy) mission to dodge regarding

aforesaid daunting task to craft worthwhile

poetic endeavor to entertain anonymous readers

gleaning how one bard (with his shaky spear)

evokes fiction being snowbound

as if cast adrift within Siberian exile.

 

Straightaway I continue writing askew

aware how literary trademark modality

characteristic of one hapless wordsmith

unwittingly indelibly embedded

analous to mine Caucasian

versus swarthy melanin hue

 

man automatically confers eligibility granting

innumerable known mighty opportunities

(privileged skin color - how unfair)

bigoted prejudices shade those

either hashtagged as black,

naturally copper toned gentile and/or Jew.