Seasonal And Holidays Past Journal

Another Season

In cold weather, I fight a
brutal climate shivering in
the desperate snow as I note
dead trees and barren soil
telling me another season will
take its place soon as I
remain holed up in woods,
burning barrells that smell
like the ones I used to warm
myself at, rubbing my gloves
against each other, in the
small park near the police
station where ice-skaters had
their hearts set on a full
day of gliding on the ice


I fish for change in my
pocket with a kleenex in it
watching a single goldfish in
a glass bowl
it reaffirms that
I am barely making ends meet
moaning with a cut-and-dry
subject like an outrageous
gasbill
my laughing Buddah is smiling
he knows of my ghosts in this
town, relishing my own life
without fear of hate yet hidden
in photographs of relatives
safe from harm and criticizm
over who had money and who
didn't

a stuffed teddy bear I picked up
at a forgotten carnival appears to
be spreading its legs
as I fondle it to put it back on
the backboard of my knotty pine
bed, thick with memories
summer insects are last season's
history

sometimes, it is frightening