“As the Days Shorten”

Thoughts of dying speak up
among falling snowflakes:

wolf tracks in my backyard warning me
how starvation feeds life,

my numb toes on winter mornings
jealous of death ridden beds,

and my breath visible as smoke from a fire
I stopped thinking about years ago,

so I take comfort in the warmth
of agreement,

complaining about the cold
to a sleeping backside.

Richard LeDue


If you have any thoughts about this poem,  Richard LeDue  would be pleased to hear them