A Pair Of Glasses, A Swan, And An Origami Clock

Nature is calling, your hips swaying. A light snowfall takes place in a winter breeze. The footprints of a doe and her fawn grace the land in fragments. Broken bits of grass poke out from where they were last seen, in brown, sticky patches. A moose, a rabbit, a raccoon— resting, rejuvenating, saving their strength. Birds chirp, wolves howl. I close my eyes and know I’ve made it. Did you make it to Italy, sparrow? For I am yet to make it there. I wish you well.