My Favorite Season

My Favorite Season

It’s not when the leaves turn or the snow falls.
It’s not when the flowers bloom or the days are long.

It’s when the McRib® is put to bed
for it’s ten month hibernation

and the green milkshakes all appear
with a school of crisp fish sandwiches—

Deep fried protein from the sea,
tartar sauce with extra pickles—

Then a frosty mint delight
sprouting from no earthly garden.

Let it kill me on Good Friday—
then restrain me in my tomb.
I’ll come back out Thanksgiving Day—
for a tangy barbecue fueled doom.

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8 Responses to My Favorite Season

  1. Lucy says:

    lol ‘Tis the season.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Cassa Bassa says:

    Yum…tummy rumbling

    Liked by 1 person

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