It's cold outside
and my sleeves are long
I can't reach out to stop the ball before it rolls into the street

There's no real tragedy here,
I motion to a car that I am about to cross
and I make it to the other side without a scratch.

Back on the lake it was less predictable.
The dangers weren't as obvious as a moving car.

I heard the sounds of animals and calls of birds
Myself, I was unimportant in the midst of it all.
Meaning vulnerable. You are no more important or precious
than the birds whose feathers fill your bedding
or the animals whose fur line your garments and boots.

It's funny though, as I wrap myself in man made nylon
defense against the dusting of water particles blowing like snowflakes in the wind
I am still at the lake, but it is as if I brought the moving car along inside my weekend satchel.