The Cold

The cold can’t decide if it wants to stay

It came in a few days ago and turned the winter’s final rain into its first snow

The last of what little snow fell is still around

It hides in those lonesome corners where the sun doesn’t reach

It watches anxiously as puddles form in the light of day

But the days are short and the night returns

the orphaned snow sleeps safe and cold

 

There’s this question…

…that someone spoke to me in a dream when I was about sixteen years old:

“What side of time are you on?”

I still don’t know what that means. It was either a message from an entity from beyond the fourth dimension or it was nothing at all. I thought I could use that to segue into the subject of the “New Year” but it seemed to just go nowhere. Ah well, such is life. A wise man once told me; “Aim for the stars, land in the trees.”

So here we are, in the trees with no complaints.

217

Be good.