Too Much Too Much Too Much

Two feet of snow
                  a gallon of coffee,
                                    fourteen puppies,
                                                      twelve days of Christmas
                                                                        one billion dollars…

Anything,
and everything,
can become too much
even if desired,
and especially when wonderful
in small amounts.

Early in the morning,
                  when silence still holds sway,
I wonder about words generally,
                  and my words specifically –
whether there are too many,
how much to say,
when to say it.

Is silence normal?

Do words simply
abstract reality?

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This poem was written on November 26, 2025.