The Sloshed Shadow

Yikes. Been a while. But Groundhog day has come around again which means more poems and cookies… this time from Scotland.

For last years contribution see here and the year before that and the year before that.

The Sloshed Shadow

A key player was missing from the scene,
Groundhog, she grumbled, paced to and fro.
Months had flown by with no word or post,
Where was that damn Shadow?

For upon arriving in Scotland the Shadow had fled,
She saw him fade away past baggage claim,
The groundhog she shouted, she shrieked,
she protested, but the Shadow wanted no part of their fame.

For every Second of the Second month of the year,
The Groundhog becomes the dog’s bollocks,
All flock to her flat bearing cookies and poems,
To lure her to come out and frolic.

Woodchuck, marmot and whistley pig.
The names are far and ranging,
But the wise, prophetic Groundhog,
will decide if the seasons are a’changin’.

But the Shadow was missing, she was half of a whole,
So Groundhog bundled up and raced into the night,
To search all of Edinburgh - pub to pub,
She’d make Shadow realize her plight.

Groundhog trudged on in the misty damp,
Her face defeated, now wrought and pale,
Wandered into one last pub for the evening,

And there sat the Shadow downing his ale.

*

Hardly believing she’d found him at last,
She accosted him with words of abuse,
But the Shadow nodded, smiled and giggled,
The drink had made him rather obtuse.

“But it’s February first!” cried the Groundhog alarmed,
“You must see the the obligations to which you are bound!”
She shook him sternly by the collar,
The Shadow grunted and ordered another round.

He slid down a glass towards Groundhog distraught,
And gave it a nod with adoring admiration,
Groundhog, she sighed, wrung her paws together
And downed it in her frustration.

February Second came long and at last,
The crowd gathered waiting with fear.
Their foreheads were damp, their voices shook,
Wondering if Spring was near.

They knocked and they hollered,
They hollered and knocked, but Groundhog appear she did not,
For she had drowned herself in bucket loads of beer,
And quite frankly had just plumb forgot.