Let Us Not Bury the Future
At least not in my backyard.
Those unformulated plans
Know who they are
And are just waiting for their moment
To tear up your briefly organized past.

We all know the way things
Are supposed to happen
And as long as you don’t include
Every detail that’s the way
They will be.

The squirrel tosses
A nut from the top of a tree,
It drops down the neck of the boy’s father
Who knows his boy’s mischievous ways
And decides at that moment
To send the squirrel
To military school in Montana.

The boy sympathizes but
Doesn’t say a word as he has
No love for cold weather
And plans to get acquainted
With some Whales in Florida.
Plans he didn’t know he had.

Living in Pods
As we all do, it only takes
One sick leader to end up
On a beach somewhere so
The boy thought
Let’s not do that again.

Things are going to be
Different this year.

L. Fullington

If you have any comments on this poem, 
L. Fullington   would be pleased to hear from you.