Snow and The Inconsolable Guilt Regarding Phytoplankton

Currently I buoy myself along 

with the sensation of feeling

really rather wretched having had to awaken

to the white sight of

snow!

You must understand

a drab, dreary disdain

blankets my every direction.

A creeping, callous cold has

found a way into my anatomy.

Without any form of exaggeration

it has chilled me right to freezing point.

A freezing point I might add

felt mostly in one place -

My tushie.

Yes,

My bum.

My butt.

My bottom.

My backside.

My posterior.

A most unpleasant sensation

to say the very least.

“The Sun, The Sun,

I simply must chase the sun.”

This all knowing thought

screams it’s way into my already

nastily nippy day.

Hurrying to the window

I notice the sun and the clouds.

The pair,

currently knee deep

in a rigorous skirmish,

the sun shoots

a warming ray.

The clouds swarm

shrouding the ray

much like a

bloom of algae

covering my favorite pond

suffocating my family of fish

extinguishing all hope.

Last summer

I ladled and scooped

(until my hearts content),

all of that organism type algae.

Ladled, scooped (weapons of mass destruction),

right up out of the water

displacing

every last minuscule algae cell from it’s very own

reality of living.

Oh dear!

I believe I may have

murdered -

that algae.

What right do I have to

decide the fate of

millions of microscopic,

single-celled phytoplankton?

Well of course,

much research was present post the murderous act of

the poor algae family.

I endured living with

pent up guilt for months on end

so yes of course

I can still recall the name of these

now dead algae named

Phytoplankton

Oh hang on -

my head is screaming again

“don’t look back in regret.”

Quite true.

One must never even dare to

look back and question

for the past ceases to exist

it is the here, the now

we must keep our focus.

Moving right along

to rid myself of the cold no less,

the guilt will remain for a time indefinite.

Gather up courage I must.

Head for the shed.

A simple ladder my target.

Shouldn’t be too hard if I

hot tail my little butt -

(which I might add

is now being bitten

exceedingly hard by the

the very thing I hold in the most

antipathy - the cold)

- fast as I can muster

through the waist deep snow

Argh!

“Baby it’s cold outside”

I half sing

half scream

and another half I wail,

sounding much like what I imagine

a giraffe birthing twins would sound.

No longer can I feel my face

in this glacial torment!

I must not dilly dally,

don’t want my bits to fall off as

a result of frostbite

locating my bits again

may indeed be an impossibility

in this deep white ice

and also

however would I reattach?

The ladder -

there it is!

Drag the ladder outside I do.

Best bet for now -

Wait.

Yes wait,

for the swarm of clouds to

dissipate.

No ladle, no scoop, not this time.

Cannot have any more

MURDER!!!

on my conscience

this lifetime.

“Tra la, la

Tra la lair,

I have a cold bum

It ain’t really fair”

Sing whilst I wait,

notice I do the birds fly far and wide

did my voice do that?

Encourage the birds to scutter away 

from my murderous voice? 

Hmmm -

Eyes glued, stuck, cemented,

to the sky

a simple parting

of the clouds

my only request.

There it is

BAM!

Clouds lift.

Sun shift.

Quick!

Literally shoving the ladder

with my mightiest might

in the direction

of the soon to be encapsulating

golden warmth.

I climb aboard the sunbeam

walk my way up to the sun

turn around and drop my pants

to warm my little bum.

* You can go back and sing that last stanza right there if you like - gives a lovely effect.

Ahhhhh -

warm tushie.

Life

can once again

return to normality

There really is nothing

quite like a warm bottom.