Seasons are changing

Seasons are changing.
The planet is, too.
Ninos to Ninas
a nursery rhyme zoo,

logical hodgepodge
or ill storms ahead.
Cross fingers, crosseyes,
flags are doubling red.

Coonhound’s lost the trail,
no sense midst the soy,
sauced in the wrath grapes,
give no beans to employ,

science still learning,
the weather-or-nots,
of an earth turning over
man’s composting hot spots,

But the seasons keep changing.
The planet will, too.
Perhaps still when ninos and ninas
no longer are due.


This is one of those seasons. I seem to have heard there is 48 days left.

Sally is going to visit northern Also, GA and SC.