The god’s dandruff starts at the post office.
And, with the light shake of a woolly head.
city limits to ragged countryside,
it begins to spread.
There are days when travel can be conducted with a vacant stare.
Nothing mechanical…handled with care.
Then there are sequestered disturbances that require…
a northern style of patience.
Fender benders, just happenstance.
The herd and I,
four wheels that have endured a ridden hard, life.
there is truth to mother nature’s cosmic style and wit.
Peril in watching her shake, shimmy and not…
give two shudders of a coiled fist.
Weeks can pass without a winter rinse.
Dirty and clumsy are the pedestrian’s footfall.
The moon and stars,
hang higher in heaven’s hall.
receive no calls.
With a constant toll paid…
frosty flakes of boxed shut-in’s…state,
‘Smoke ’em if you got ’em.
Roll it…as you see fit.’
As the lumbering tale has it…
when the cabin has a fever.
Mother begins to pout.
And, these are the squalls when having a half wit is better than none at all.
akin to Rob, Peter to pay, Paul.
##New Hampshire Humor:
Statements made when someone is too full! To swallow one’s pride.