On quiet nights, fear makes me fragile.
Every damn sneer makes me fragile. 

I just might break beneath my own breath
because what I hear makes me fragile. 

Last year’s leaves rattle along the branch.
What’s no longer here makes me fragile. 

Brief rains promise to reveal our aches.
The sky becoming clear makes me fragile. 

Ice remains stubborn on the park’s pond.
Touching what is near makes me fragile. 

Some animals won’t make it to spring.
Losing what is dear makes me fragile.