You have a terrible but well-deserved reputation. You are the longest shortest month; we all complain about you. You're the insufferable supervisor who constantly calls unnecessary meetings that drag on hours after everything that needed to be said was said. We can't wait for you to adjourn.
If you're having that kind of February, check out Jill Osier's "February." It captures the essence of the month perfectly. My favorite lines:
Oh, I am sick. I fade, I fall,
I curse this month, all it wants
to be. Its lot is the same
each time, unthawed.
Honestly, though, I can't complain much about our February this year. (And yet I do.) February 2020 is, overall, warmer than normal (if you don't count that -4 degree reading yesterday morning, and you ignore averaging.) There's only a week and a day of it left (not that I'm counting.) And at least Ash Wednesday didn't fall on Valentine's Day this year. (There's always something to be said for that.)
It's almost over, thank goodness, other than that tricky extra day next weekend. (It seems a cruelty to tack an extra day onto February, of all months, doesn't it? Whose warped idea was that anyway? Why don't we get an extra day in June??)
I'm reminded of a February haiku I wrote years ago:
Like a guest who stayed too long.
Shut the door, and sigh.
Just one more week! (And a day.)
The Poetry Friday round-up is at Library Matters this week.