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April 29, 2014

Musing further, on back into winter,
’twas such a murder with many a splinter.
Though we took a spill,
it could have been worse;
now here you’ll be ill
with this chill snowbound verse:

“If the heavier snow falls further west,
we, you know, will think it best.
Frozen flow at your behest;
quite the show, I say in jest.”

At least, well greased,
for this near hairless ape
the work rarely ceased
but it kept him in shape.
Salt and sweat increased
on his back, neck and nape
with his shovel a beast
’oer his left hand to drape.