The Ides of May
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Early Spring on the prairie is different from most places at best. You never know what you can expect. The snow will be melting and the weather is just warming up and then suddenly it freezes and you're slipping and sliding all over the sidewalk. Of course there are slushy puddles everywhere too. Finally the snow is gone and your plants are just breaking the ground and Jack Frost decides to have one last fling. Then once your plants have revived and are starting to get some size to them you get hail the size of ice cubes. But guess what, those of us who live here wouldn't leave.
'Tis well past the ides of May now.
The wind grows strong and wild.
It whistles past the windows, 'round the eaves.
The weather now is iffy,
Hot one day and cold the next,
We could have rain or scattered showers now with ease.
We wait in hopes of rain now,
And we pray we won't get hail,
And it wouldn't be the first time that it snowed.
Prairie weather can be strange,
You never know what it will do,
But it's a lovely place to live within the flow.
The wind blows branches off the trees,
And then hail can strip the leaves,
From their branches while the snow climbs past your knees.
Then the next day's warm and sunny.
You may think that this sounds funny,
But I wouldn't trade it for a pot of gold.
Copyright © Judy Ball | Year Posted 2021
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