And he awakens
Groggy, stiff and unaware.
Rain or shine
Drought or drizzle,
Bang or fizzle,
Pert and pensive.
If he knew he’d lose all senses,
Hide behind the tallest fences,
Any respite from their stare.
Will he chance to see his shadow?
Will he forecast winter’s fate?
Can we trust in his prediction?
We will simply have to wait.