Cabin Fever

The fire’s brightly glowin.,

but the damned old wind is blowin’,

The snow is comin’ down,

Coverin’ up the ground.

The Flivver won’t turn over,

I’m stuck in here with Rover.

The window’s frosted up,

Durn near froze my cup.

The highway ain’t been plowed,

The sun’s behind a cloud.

The river’s done been froze,

I need some warmer clothes.

The TV’s on the fritz,

Sometimes it up and quits.

The big game got snowed out,

Could-a been a rout.

The temperature’s so low,

That I got no place to go.

There’s chores that must be done,

But they won’t be much fun.

I’m gonna stay inside,

Couldn’t leave here if I tried.

A chinook is far away,

So I gonna’ hafta’ stay.

And dream of tropic sand,

In some far-off warmer land.

LDT February 10, ‘24

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