In the dark, dreary dredges

of December

a man lay, cold

Like a dog

dying in the snow

Laying on the cold stone

he watched the snow

as it piled over the window

and covered the world

Slightly struggling

we give a token resistance

like a possum

brained on the road

A timelapse of our tribe on the hill

We don’t move, as we grow old

Everything changed around us

as our world froze

How long it’s been

We say December’s all we know

How long it’s been

since winter released it’s hold

Some of us move

like there’s somewhere to go

But they trudge up the same hill

laying new tracks in old snow

The rest learn our lesson

and stay, whimpering and cold

like a dog

dying in the snow

We ignore abundance

and pretend nothing grows

We lie to ourselves because

we’re addicted to the cold