after the first rain of the season; it still feels cold enough to snow
we may be ready but that doesn’t mean that spring is ready for us
from where we stand the pigeon and the moon appear to be the same size
worn out and broken yet still taking the beating that others could not
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
the first whiff of spring stirs long frozen memories that still have to wait
a bird of prey dines on squirrel while the victim’s friends play in the shade
every snowflake is unique, but who can tell when they’re dumped in clumps
uptown jack 