A poem . . . simply entitled . . . "To the ground"



It's winter in Canada!
And the gentle breezes blow
Seventy miles an hour
At thirty-five below.
Oh, how I love Canada
When the snow's up to your butt
You take a breath of winter
And your nose gets frozen shut.
Yes, the weather here is wonderful
So I guess I'll hang around
I could never leave Canada
I'm frozen to the friggin' ground!