Frog

 
When life becomes scarier than death
The mind slips below the surface like a winter frog
For whom spring has been cancelled.
The buds have been arrested
The seeds shrivel and dissolve.

Guilt

On my steps I found a wooly bear
Its guts were strewn out everywhere
So I put it in a glass,
And filled it full of leaves and grass
It gathered dust for twenty years
I never looked inside.
And maybe it was me.
This tale, an autobiography.