no matter how grand the achievements of man, we are specks to nature
we need light to see but the light doesn’t let us see what it’s hiding
it’s with mixed feelings that i note the last squeaky snowfall of the year
falling snow muffles sight and sound, and the screams from the monster next door
the first whiff of spring stirs long frozen memories that still have to wait
they’re on the table together but they are not equally enjoyed
eventually everything is reduced to its base level
a bird of prey dines on squirrel while the victim’s friends play in the shade
often forgotten some of us patiently wait until we’re needed
if we keep it closed it is no longer a gate it is now a fence
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