Imbolc

Yesterday he was given a mound
of slow-release tranquilizers,
grease-drizzled.

Today, still stupefied,
he will be made to prognosticate.

Not that it matters;

his shadow
or lack of
shadow;

six weeks of winter
either way.

All the rodent knows
is that it is too damn early
and too damn cold to
get the hell up.

Speak your piece