Yoot Mag

It is an unnatural springtime in January.

But I won’t complain about the silky breeze

And sweet sun frolicing through winter air.

And I am basking in the dewey grass,

With a blanket, a book, and you beside me.

I know what your eyes ask of me,

You know I can’t deny it from you.

We stare at each other for a brief moment and

against my better judgement,

I toss a peanut in your direction.

I know this is something wrong,

not what nature had intended of us.

But there are no acorns on the ground here.

And it makes me giggle

to see your tiny hands holding this delicacy so close.

You are far too fat and far too docile for your own good.

You would never make it on your own.

But I sheepishly admit that I, too,

am perhaps a bit chubbier than my

Noble ancestors once were.

Happier too, I suppose.

It’s not your fault

You’ve changed alongside me.

It’s not my fault

I pieced together the world this way.

So therefore I conclude that it’s not our fault

For appreciating the sweet joys

this changed world brings.