It’s hard to say goodbye
when you know the time is dwindling
In the moments you have left,
what was given, taken back
It’s hard to say goodbye
when the words are lost and foreign
Those looks you get with time beset
—in everlasting sorrow
(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2020)
Left To Rot
Not knowing the outcome,
I’d hide in the field
And wait for nature
to turn out the yield
Perception unharvested,
the thick to the thin
The fantasies rotting
—all truth caving in
(Stoltzfus Farm: December, 2020)