this is not a beginning or an end
it's simply somewhere in the middle -
as it always was, and as it always will be
(i think.)

this is not the callous future you made out
the end-times we projected, lying cold in the winter of our misery
rather it is just another page
(maybe, it could be.)

so i shook away the rime
and practiced folding my hands
and looking up and around instead of down
to hear the music, not the sound
where roller-coaster emotions roil in a boiling sea of toil
and foil coils to the heart-breaking heights
(of somewhere else.)

nick