always is thus; naked in my woods,
and a lake in spring; water and broken ice,
or so I tell myself; doubting my sincerity – serenity,
the path so often taken; today like all the yesterdays,
a rising sun without boundaries;
setting beyond the shards of reflection,
broken with truth in heart; through repetition,
I make my purchase swift; a new set of wings,
on credit; not expecting them to last,
the close encounter with a sun
