It is May, and so that means
I’m figuring out my Vermont schemes
The lake is thawed, our shack is calling
So I tell Hubby, let’s not be stalling
We’ll pack up the car with all our loot
Hubby will plan our two-day route
We can’t go ‘till the coast is clear
By that I mean no frost-warning fear
Like tonight, it will be twenty-seven degrees
The shack has no heat, and I don’t like to freeze
The pipes will freeze, too, if too soon we arrive
And so we postpone that very long drive
Memorial Day should be a good time
Spring comes late to Vermont, but is always sublime
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