gears and tumblers a machine that protects us taken for granted
as winter retreats it’s captives are uncovered freed from a cold war
no matter our mood who among us doesn’t like a good chin scratching?
relics from the past cling to where new growth will be unaware they’re done
where snow once gathered and crystal icicles hung welcome raindrops fall
function comes to form and creates for us a place we can hang our hat
the sun keeps pushing for a later evening as we watch, hopeful
once stuck, riderless the machine is preparing to live life again
you can watch for days and just maybe catch a glimpse and it all pays off
first choice, go forward the path gives direction, but given the chance, turn
Have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
