Eager to Live

New fallen trees no longer surprise me.

Nor do I look to find their snowy coats.

What ever god there is lied to me.

There is no rower for this boat

which drifts from daylight to danger

as if by cruel, familiar rote.

A bark as useless as a piece of mulch

covered over seasonally in disgust.

And the sticker ball stars,

prickly things,

a universe of enemies

on guard day and night in distrust.

The snowball moon catapults towards earth,

eager to live free

but weaponry no longer surprises us.

© 2023 | K.Hartless


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