the moose twisting his antler around the tree
as they all stand and stare in silence –watching
holding the wall up as normal as every day
without the thought on the mind - thinking
that someday this adventure will end
twiddling thumbs was a game of the past - waiting
for when the second hand caress the time
a release will be given and out it climbs - hoping
freed from the bars with a new lease on life
dose it matter, the out come of their saying - judging
watching a squirrel, gives you insight
while not hitting the same hole over again –learning
a long walk down the crisp lane and looking both ways
opening the door and reaching in, taking a hold - receiving
grabbing the broom and sweeping the snow out of the way
making a path and going, doing, loving –living
with seven little helpers and a wicked witch to kill
eating the apple, getting kissed by the deer –dreaming

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Patricia May Neiderer Cory Garcia
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