Groundhog

Thoughts On A Gray December Morning

Three months deep
Beneath snow that wouldn't melt,
Groundhog lay dreaming 
Of sliding on his belly in damp grass,
Munching tender leaves poking
Spring's soft warmth,
Of watching birds serenade
The budding treetops with 
Billion-year-old anthems
As the drowsy planet
Stretches in the Sun, 
And Groundhog smiled
Roundly stuffed and warmed
from Autumn's final feast.