Pork Roast Prose inspired by Punxsutawney Phil

Last night I made a pork roast, revenge dish for the hog

Who said he saw no shadow and popped back in his log.

While all across the country we looked for signs of spring —

A bud, a shoot, a puddle, the robins that could sing.

But all we found was winter — the icy, windy kind

and shoveling each morning became our daily grind.

I’ll get him back, said I as I began to prep my kraut

I topped it with a hunk of pork, take that you fickle lout!

I seasoned it a little, then sealed it in my crock

and left for work quite smugly thinking slow cookers just rock!

Alas that nasty rodent got the best of me again

when I realized hours later, I forgot to plug it in.

Well played, Punxsutawney, well played.