A snake hole in the ground,
dark and perpetual,
endlessly sinking below the surface.
There must me more
than that darkness,
but I am not brave enough
to explore.

I see the empty boxes
piled up high,
waiting to be filled, and
a sorrow hangs about,
for I have nothing
to fill them with.

The downed trees can make me think
about how easily they were taken.
Whether my man or by nature
they had no way to fight,
nature had no choice
but to do what it must,
but man could have chosen differently.

5/4/98