Bursts of color
Daylight into evening, what becomes of death in the celebration of life?
Winter, breath forced out of a warm old frame, breath in the air looping in vapor around my head, my bald head, with rings of hair above the ears, I will go into my aging years, coming forth a man of creative promise like the flowers hidden below frozen earth
Another day unfolds into life and evening settles in with sun dying in the crescent of sky. The end of summer into fall.
We have come to a point of arrival.
