A Strange November

Something has gone amiss in this land of bliss and sunshine,
something has gone awry in this place of cloudless skies.

Someone has flipped the calendar at least two months ahead,
or else the map has twisted and the continent fell on its head.

The wind that we are feeling over here in the good old Heartland
has more of an Arctic feel than what we’d like to stand.

What they’re calling “today’s high” seems much more like a low;
and I’m almost completely certain that it’s much too cold to snow!

It is not just or right to be stealing weather from the Eskimeaux
and dumping it on top of people who live this far below.

I can see the signs of dawning above the ridge to the east,
but when the sun arises, we will not feel it in the least.

It should not be like this, this early in November;
ten days below freezing–now that’s something we’ll remember!

The bunnies are buying booties and the birds are sporting bonnets,
I just saw a fox run by with a thick fur coat upon it.

And if the animals of the wild survive without so much as a heater,
I’m sure I’ll be alright, but I dread to read the meter.

Through sixty winters of such thus far, the Lord has seen me through,
and I am fully confident we’ll make it through this one, too.

Though the trees are bare and the aching snow covers the hills,
He’ll not only keep me safe, He’ll help me pay my bills!

H. Arnett

About Doc Arnett

Native of southwestern Kentucky currently living in Ark City, Kansas, with my wife of twenty-nine years, Randa. We have, between us, eight children and twenty-eight grandkids. We enjoy singing, worship, remodeling and travel.
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