A Snowbirds’ Dissent

As I grow old, 
My friends are cold,
And off they go
To flee the snow.
They’ve waited long
to join the throng.
They emigrate,
And haughtily they celebrate.

They sink the putt
And tan somewhat,
Invite their kin
To rub it in.
They start to crow
Like now they know
That moving forth,
They’re better than their friends up north.

They started young
With wagging tongue,
Lamenting cold
(The whining, old)
They all presumed
We were entombed.
Their endless moan:
Cold weather is a cause to groan.

They now assume
That winter’s gloom
And cold and ice
Are sacrifice
And cause to mourn
For all those born
Where on clear nights
We maybe see the Northern Lights.

So, as for me,
The nth degree
Of summer heat
Is pretty sweet.
And garden’s bloom 
Is sweet perfume,
AND winter’s squall
(Or I would not live here at all.)
My snowbird friends,
Your view offends.
I am not jailed –
My will’s availed.
I choose my fate.
I pick my state.
Assumptions suck.
Your point of view has run amok.

Assume for me
I want to flee
On airplane flights
From winter nights?
You think I’m trapped,
But I am rapt
And I rejoice
That where one lives is just a choice.

Author: nancyspeaking

Nancy Taylor is an author and a former national keynote speaker and consultant for educators. She is retired and spends her time with her husband and two standard poodles in a country setting in Michigan, tending her perennial gardens and her Dutch show rabbits.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s