His back was slightly hunched, as if he used those muscles in ways most people don't. His neck seemed long as he stretched to look at you more closely, in an almost predatory way. His hair was unkempt and wild, coming to points above his ears. And, he seemed to always scowl, sitting on his front porch in the old neighborhood, as if guarding something.

Ghostly it seems

Glimpsed in the dark

Snow falling in large flakes

Painting shifting shadows

Across the twilit land

Breeze gently pushing tall grass

Birds chirping nearby in trees and bushes

Young doe leaping gracefully across the path

No cares, simply joy in the day

A friendly wren poses for a selfie, looking for grubs,

A pause, to take a breath.

It began nearly 50 years ago,

a song on the radio.

A lament certainly,

a tragedy in education definitely.

Indoctrination!

Wrens in the paper towel dispenser

Not caring about the noise or vibrations

Not really friendly, the neighbor you wave at,

but never really speak to

Ignoring campers as they walk by,

stopping occasionally to wash hands,

never noticing the neighbors