Winter is at last coming to an end.
The snow recedes,
revealing the stench of piss and shit,
that layers a cold – dead – earth.
For a time the world will seem unsightly.
Until the day the insects wake,
and pollinate the flowers;
the paths we walk will be muddy and bare.
The ruts we’ve strutted in,
more than obvious;
begging spring to bring its rains and wash,
the world a – new.
May the rose buds bloom,
the green grass grow tall, to leave no trace,
of piss & shit & death – upon the earths face.
Such a beautiful transformation;
only to be witnessed by the moon and void of space.