Four wood legs below me reinforce my rear
The suns rays sear off of this white haze called snow
A glum graveyard of brown surrounds my whole home
Two filthy cigarette butts are staring me in the eye
Like a cats eyes luminating in the middle of the night
And I’m wondering why I wonder these thoughts.
****, its hard to caress all the thoughts I possess.
Broken from bewilderment by a lone gray hare
I scared it and it scattered up the short, steep hill.

*Walks inside because the frost is nippin’ his nose

I just need something new to twist up my life,
But every time something comes even close
Imagination defeats reality and all hope is lost.
Trying to find even the slightest bit of hope
Is like picking hope out of a crowd of pick-it signs
Nearly impossible, but the sign is still out there.
Suddenly reminded of the graveyard of brown outside
I recall glancing at a row of three green pine trees
And realize, they keep life all year round
Even when times have grown cold
And fellow friends have lost life.
Knowing they will survive
They strive to keep hope.