What Happens to a Snark in Winter?

When you see how the snark shivers sad in the cold,
It makes you forget all your woe.
With his claws clenched in tight and his fur fluffing bold,
the snark is a summertime foe.

Evr’y feather a-quiver, each toe tucked away,
he waits for the warmth to return.
He’s no comeback to offer, no quip to purvey
until there is sunshine to burn.

So be gentle, dear friends, if you meet him unarmed;
in the winter, his bite fades to bark.
Should he die, that would fast be a cause for alarm:
what’s the fun in a heat wave sans snark?

You’re welcome, Lewis Carroll.

Published by Jen

The author of Snark on the Side is not your average run-of-the-millennial generation. Jen is a contradiction in terms: a graceful klutz, a smart blond, a math-savvy English major, a southern liberal, and an employed young adult with a master’s degree. Snark on the Side is a work in progress, born out of years of rambling email newsletters and anthropomorphized Christmas letters, small town observations, and the ever-present irony of pursuing a career with a degree in English literature. Thanks for visiting!

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