Ode to A Young Dog (day 2679)

Your breath gets me
A startling reminder
That even though
Your dear to me
Your still a scoundrel
For games and fun.
Your ever presence
Ever eager eyes
Inquiring of me
For hidden treats
Of hidden adventures
Of pats and scratches,
For your wagging tail
And the little noises
I’ve known from you
Ever heard from you
Makes me warm dearly
To the fun your heart
Touches my heart
Where I wish could stay
Beside me, all days.

Fresh Snow (day 2678)

Upon the breath
Of mornings frost
Four deer parley
Just out the hedge
To which feels so
Nearer than
Long past dreams
Shaken off
Which barks at dormancy
Like soon Spring’s bust.
Yet laying softly
Which carries remains
Of late night travellers
Snow, of course,
That came so quietly
Floundered about
Biting at the air.

The Mountain (day 2674)

This mountain has grown
So I can not see it’s top
It’s not even stopping
So I’m not stopping
But as I look up so high
Unsurmountably high
I feel deep inside
A yearning for the air
I see high above
And in front of me too
I see both my shoes
And a path rarely travelled
Which today
Of all days
I’ll start here right now.

Unwanted (day 2673)

Backsplashes of humanity
Claim our paths;
We dictate the channel
But they: the message.
We drive their inventions forth,
Their shovels we work
Their dynamite blows up
What we never knew we didn’t want
And our earth
Becomes circumnavigated
With their asphalt
That inevitably cracks
Exposing all truths
That we’ve all chosen
To drive over.
But where does motivation arise?
How do we drag out
Our revolution machines
To fight each sublimality?

We wake at the crack of dawn
And march.

Should you sleep in,
Ahould you wish for warmer weather
Or a less hostile arousal,
Should you demand more luxury
In the face of destruction,
Well, for you in your warm socks
And pillowed existence
For you
The revolution shall end your pain.