Mud all around.
Snow melts, soaking the ground.
Once covered white, now found.
Size reduced of the mound.
Warm enough to thaw.
Horses no longer paw.
Need bales of straw.
Between seasons and raw.
Press on with blog.
Mud and bog.
A few more lines.
I'll be fine.
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
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