Oracle

The winter was the most baleful that anyone could remember
Though there was very little snow.
Jack Frost was passing through in his Winnebago in mid-November
And he liked the town so much he decided to stay.

Every morning, the sky was enveloped with a thick tapestry of tombstone gray clouds,
An opaque ghost that appeared to be almost solid.
The ground froze and hardened
And so did people’s hearts and minds.

In desperation, the people in the surrounding area journeyed to speak with an oracle who lived under a rock.
It seemed like the only thing they could do.
The oracle was a squat furry creature with a sour expression.
It walked slowly out from under the rock when people knocked upon it respectfully with a stick.
It was wearing a paper crown on its head and a red dish towel cape and it looked quite imperious.

Then it told them in clipped tones both supercilious and fatuous
That there would be six more weeks of winter and there was nothing they could do about it.
It just goes to show that no matter how bad something gets,
There is always the chance that a delusional rodent will say something to make it all the worse.

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