Winter-ruined and

paint-peeled the old house waits for

spring's tender embrace 

I miss the feeling 

of my face pressed against a 

darkened car window 

Yesterday's arcane 

knowledge has become today's 

meme stripped of meaning  

Garbage-strewn snow piles 

dot the fields in which purple 

crocuses have sprung 

Push me, pull you, in

an endless cycle of harsh

primate posturing 

Flash in the pan 

flames out after brief viral 

fame til the next one 

Grackles, like well-drilled

soldiers, descend to feast, and 

send sparrows fleeing