Wild January thaw — this weekend it’s supposed to warm to the 50’s, and give us a deluge of rain — by Sunday evening we probably won’t have any snow left on the ground! Naturally, Lance was planning to take Vincent to a breakfast for the local snowmobile club on Sunday morning. The breakfast is still on, but probably no snowmobiling will be on evidence. Poor Vincent.
Massachusetts’ special elections to replace the irreplaceable Ted Kennedy this week kept us busily angst-ridden. Despite the wreckage of his youth, I always felt secure with Teddy as my senator; now I’m unmoored, unsure of our direction. This week’s poem reflects that uncertainty, I would wager.
It’s in the form of a madrigal, which is defined as a lyric consisting of one to four strophes of three lines followed by a two-line strophe called a ritornello. Strictly speaking I think it’s supposed to be a love or pastoral poem — I think I’ve captured a bit of the pastoral.
This will disapporate in a couple days: