By: Leo Lawton
January 4, 2012
It is nearing now the midnight hour,
and I stifle back a yawn,
as snow is softly drifting down,
and I peer out on my lawn.
There beneath the spreading maple,
near the feeder for the birds,
I spy three whitetails bobbing,
they are coming now in herds.
As I watch them munch in silence,
on sunflower seeds and corn,
I contemplate existence,
and I know why I was born.
Soon a full moon will be rising,
in a snowflake speckled sky,
there is no person on this earth,
that is more fulfilled than I.