Now I know that some of you live in warmer climates. You know who you are. You’re probably reading this on your iPhone, sitting on your deck, listening to birds sing, while the rest of us are freezing our tushies off and drinking anything hot to stay alive. I’ll have you know that the windchill was zero this morning. Zero. (Yes, it called for an extra cup of coffee just for coping reasons.)
Anyway, I wanted to brighten everyone’s day with a little poetry. My daughter recently came across a lovely poem in an obscure South Dakota centennial book.* The author is unknown, and I’ve typed it below for your enjoyment. Of course one might substitute “South Dakota” for “North Dakota.”
And I must warn my sensitive readers, this anonymous author uses the word butt. Goodness, the language some people use these days.
Winter in South Dakota
It’s winter in South Dakota
And the gentle breezes blow
Seventy miles an hour,
At thirty-five below.
Oh, how I love South Dakota,
When the snow’s up to your butt.
You take a breath of winter in
And your nose gets frozen shut.
Yes, the weather here is wonderful.
So I guess I’ll hang around.
I could never leave South Dakota
I’m frozen to the ground!