winter has ended, it's time to thaw out.
the sun thaws the icicles from your blood.
it's too nice--who wants to work anyway.
so you develop a case of (spring) crud.

you call in and say, "i'm too sick to work."
a trip to the beach you (the doc) prescribes.
you never call in--you need a day off.
relax!  join the rest of the human tribe.

you pack a picnic lunch, jump in the car.
a day at the beach is just what you need.
everybody else has the same idea.
you find it is very crowded, indeed.

you find a parking spot, it's not real close.
it takes an hour to walk to the beach.
by the time you find a spot, you're sunburnt.
and of course the lotion is out of reach.

you put your blanket on the warming sand.
close your eyes...plop, something lands on your head.
a seagull's used you as target practice.
if you catch that dang bird, that bird is dead.

a burst of seaspray soaks you head to toe.
you scream, "JEEZ LOUISE THAT WATER IS COLD!"
then someone wings a frisbee off your face.
someone steps on your crotch, new pain takes hold.

so you find a safer place to lie down.
warn anyone around you with a look.
you pity the fool who messes with you.
you take out a sandwich, the latest book.

scattered clouds move across the azure skies.
gulls call co-ordinates to their brothers.
then they download again--a sneak attack.
they laugh because you nearly got smothered.

then a wayward storm blows up, very fast.
lightning slashes down with the heavy rain.
you could have had a better day at work.
you'll never call in sick ever again!!

(C) Copy written, 2004, by Karla Dorman.