One foot down,
the other falling fast . . .
something grave
has passed by us at last.
Winter seeps
under our skin, our brows.
Snow-logged
bring the tow trucks and plows.
Don’t have strength
to fight it once again;
Lord, why us?
Why does life seem so grim?
Both hands bruised
can’t dig a hole, shovel.
I won’t beg!
You won’t hear me grovel.
Foot half-out
see my breath on the pane?
Bones still ache . . .
why do things seem insane?
Desert weeds
will tumble by full of thorns--
got to take
every bull by the horns.
Feet up now . . .
know it may one day be
I’m finished
bound for eternity.
With a smile
I will shuffle my feet,
but shalln’t run
anymore . . . it’s defeat.