Poem by Iris Carden
I want to stay in bed today, the morning's way too cold. The aches and pains are telling me my body's getting old. Autumn went by so very fast and winter's taking hold. A rainy, dismal winter, now my house is full of mould.
There's a possum in my ceiling. It moved in to get warm. It made a hole to see that I won't do it any harm.
If you ask me how I like the cold, You know I'll tell you straight: I'd rather stay in bed all day and learn to hibernate. The possum and the mould could both be left to sit, until springtime comes around and I'd deal with all of it. But humans, alas, are not built to hibernate. So cold winter mornings just continue to draw my hate.