Moss against snow

I am moss against snow
Spiny warm green
On smooth cold white
Bold but not belonging
I catch the eye
But will not be caught
As snow only wants more snow

​I had this ridiculous notion
that if I made myself
into something someone else would want to see
I could be easily had
It doesn't work that way
Instead
it's me who never clicks in place


I've grown accustomed
To being apart
I've accepted
That my piece
May never fit a larger puzzle