Or sideways. Or upways. Or all around.
The rainfalls freeze. The sky is gray.
But still I go to work each day.
I check each book. I shelve each tome.
I long to chuck it and go home.
My lashes droop. My eyelids sting.
I'm mad at every frigging thing.
I want some cocoa and my bed.
I want to rest my weary head.
Or curl up with my yarns & yawns
and watch Top Model marathons.
It's winter! Time to hibernate!
Of course each morning I am late!
This is no time for jobs or chores
outside our insulated doors.
Why won't the world just think like me
and, until spring, just leave me be?
-Jenny
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