Poetry

Things are getting warmer.

The snow is melting.

Temperatures seem to be rising.

Yet the month suggests this is too early.

February is warmer than it should be.

Are we still sure about climate change

because I see the signs all around me.

Incorrigible in the extreme.

Red Flags and Trigger Warnings.

Trolls under the Bridge.

Images of Sunsets and Flowers at Dawn.

Rain colliding with upturned Faces.

Comfort when nothing is said at all.

Nutrients.

Soil connects.

Seeds grow.

Roots branch.

Plants flourish.

Animals eat.

We walk

and dismiss

that beneath our feet.

If ever there was a poem

That explains itself

In its title.

Needing little else.

Categories to slot

Your idiosyncrasies into.

Medical terms

Foreign sounding

And wrong.

Yet it explains so much

And allows you to move forward

Knowing why

You are different.

Your new neighbourhood.

In Las Vegas.

On the moon?

This game gets weirder and weirder.

But at least it is fun.

Bathroom walked to.

Lights still off.

Sleep escapes.

Continue wandering the house?

Or toss and turn

while imagination runs turbid?

Some times the work

is worth it.

Other times

it only increases

the horrible end results.

So today I

will live with my choices

and hope

I learn to stop pushing

my decisions away.

The current tactic

of a business

to automatically

hang up on you

when they

are experiencing

an overwhelming

number of calls

really makes one

find out just how

patient they really are.

I would rather wait in a queue

for an hour

than have to

continue to call back

for 20 mins.

The mouse runs.

The rat hides.

The birds flaps.

The human cuddles.