We all converse about the weather and in all conversations seem to complain,
Too hot, too cold, too dry, too humid, too much snow, not enough, a drought or a deluge of rain,
No matter how much we try, we cannot control or, worse, with accuracy forecast.
Every prediction with computer models arrives well and does not last.
There are satellites in orbit and weather balloons by the score,
And weather ships close and others far out from shore,
Radars and computers with models so varied, complex and complete
Predict the exact time the snow or rain will fall to wet your feet
In the end we cannot control and we rarely can with conscience try to predict,
Our weather knowledge is like the fragile flame hiding from the wind on a candle wick.
As we as taxpayers seeking the weather altar file slowly to pay the weather bill,
There is a more accurate choice known as Punxsutawney Phil
A furry groundhog who on February 2nd, Groundhog Day,Knows the weather forecast, knows the proper way,
Out of his burrow to briefly and quickly shadows seek,
If one is seen, clearly winter has another six more weeks.
Millions spent on technologies usually late or usually wrong,
A groundhog pops up and does it for less than a song.
Punxsutawney Phil, we look to you in awe on your Groundhog Day,
Shadows seen will tell whether spring is soon here or winter will for longer hold sway.
For those fellow Americans trapped in the Arctic Vortex blasts
Praying that this winter does not have long to last
Do not fool with Mother Nature and Phil by with a tarp try to end shadows by blocking out the Sun!
She looks after Phil’s win streak and will be in a major snit, and your winter will have many more months not weeks to run.
Michael P. Ridley
aka the Alaskanpoet© February 1, 2014