Never Ask The Sun Poem by LeeAnn Azzopardi

In the light blanket of snow
There are remnants of rabbit tracks
And golden and red leaves are underneath it;
Peeking through
My breath tells me that the last days
Of the year are almost here
Quielty, I drink the last drop of coffee
As I smoke the end of my cigarette
I turn towards to the sunlight
And ponder if any success will be
Shower upon me
Then. I smile and head towards the door
For I know not to ask the sun for favours
Because it's not the one to question