Is this February without a flake
An aberration or a precursor
Of a world that we’ve finally destroyed?
We are childless oddities all alone
Picking up our crumbs of fame and fortune
Sisters, nieces and nephews to forget.
I am grateful to leave no child behind
To suffer ever-crowded reality
And to wonder why they were ever born.
One man died and the other came too close
Thank God I was free and not at their sides
And others had to haul that cart of ash.
Now I’ll let you fall down into your hole
Too far away to hear your pointless cry
Surviving till I see the snow again.