grunts moans monosyllables
words that leak through the senses
an occational sigh
bleeding death of a thought long unthought
a feather hidden in the pages of a book
finally falls off and disintegrates
outside in the dreary lawn
blades of grass lie dormant under a film of snow
pregnant with hope for tomorrow
hard solid ground feels like rock
when my feet slip on the powder smoothness
I just wonder how hard the undertaker
has to dig to lay me in the ground
