Draco

There’s rumor that the weather coming down
May whiten up the countryside; the south
Is set for colder temperatures, the mouth
Of Draco having covered any town
From Dallas up to Houlton, up in Maine.
It’s easier in Dallas, where the heat
Will melt away an inch; a better feat
Is leaving any town upon the plain
That’s waiting on too many planes aground,
Awaiting their delivery.  Alas,
A pretty Christmas will not likely pass
For happiness at Christmas, when are found
So many thousands waiting for a ride
That only mother nature will decide.