.

together we wont know where to go

.

/ or today 
those skates bot circa 71,

stiffness gone, or never there, all energy propelled 
bends my ankles

I'm winded
when I shot: this oval will clear
my head

give little buds of one good thought /


.


in the millennium

.


my aging 
exaggerated

by the fight against it.

.

sunday: forests for the world Ð ski
the lake

skirt its edge, clear head to see the 
conspire: nature - streaked cloud 
to pure

/ light


no mind to see