everything looks dead

barely enough moisture left
from the last
dirty brown snow carcass
slowly melting
in an ugly clump
under lonely industrial shadows
at the end of the street

to feed the dribbling stain
on the sad
broken pavement
we pray in vain
for more

bone dry
barren branches snap
under the slightest pressure

it is yet unclear
if buds will come again
after that global lie
killed their brethren
two months ago

apparently the birds are alright
for now
they seem confused however
getting mixed messages
from the squirrels and bunnies
as to what time of year
is actually here

a strange and frantic sunlight
gives no clue
stunted brown grass
refuses to offer any indication

perhaps it’s true
all we have left now
is winter

m(-_-)m