A Better Way of Life
I've been thinking. I ought to become
A bear. I have no use for winter. I don't
Like the cold. It hurts my hands. The snow
Has no appeal, as I don't ski. I find it
Irritating. I don't see much good in the days
Being short, in the hoopla surrounding
Christmas. I sit out these months morosely,
Waiting for warmth, and leaves and flowers,
The heady odors of growth, to return. I may
As well mimic the bears and sleep through
This terrible time of the year, waking only
After it's passed, and a world I'd rather inhabit
Surrounds me again.
Poetry by Lawrence Beck

Read 42 times
Written on 2023-01-06 at 10:36




Sona |
![]() |
josephus |
![]() |
arquious |