Fallen Tree

To be young is to feel the grass growing beneath your feet 

And wander through the woods aimlessly 

To see the little, quiet things unnoticed by all else 

And say, 

My heart breaks

For every snowflake

That twirls down,

Solitary

Amongst a gray sky

It looks lonely, you see

Not as if I don’t know how that feels.

I’ve started looking forward to the little things a little more 

Than I look forward to next year

Because it feels like next year is uncertain.

I’m excited to eat peanut butter toast in the car before skiing,