November 10, 2012


That backhoe
made quick work,
digging my newfound home,
cutting a deep hole
into the frozen ground.
I hope my neighbors
weren't disturbed
by all the sound.
They must wonder why
I don't wait for spring,
when the softened earth
will be more willing.
But they know, too,
we must all accept
the cover of new snow
in our first season
down below,
why we'll be
much better off
here without love,
than we would be
waiting, up above.