I don’t know where that wind is from or why the air’s so chill. I’ve no clue where the woodchuck is – sleeping or plucking fruit in the berry field?

Why have the birds disappeared? Where have they flown and when? That plant newly flowering when its brother is dead – a mystery I cannot solve.

I don’t know when the leaves will turn or when the snow will fly. If there’ll be storms I’ve no idea or if that drop of rain will lead to more.

The green frog hasn’t told me where it lives or what it ate today. The squirrel so busy going somewhere – to where it does not say.

I don’t know how long I’ll sit out here. I don’t know what will happen this week. I don’t know when or how I’ll die. It could even be today.

That’s why I’m holding everything lightly. It’s probably the only way.