In morning 
this hour
so still
just breath
and some 
distant knock
of silence 
doing its 
simple job 
and I
the same 

I am 
no hero 
medals don’t 
adorn chest
wounds unseen 
but I 
just shoulder 
the scars
behind my
hollow smile 
wishing such 
wasn’t so 

It almost happened 
and yet didn’t 
and despite that 
sitting here now 
I am wondering 
did I dodge 
or did I 
miss my exit 
it’s always interesting 
I think this 
having gone past
what might’ve been 
it lingering there 
back behind me 

Who knows 
said what 
about when 
where did 
and why
well why
knows little
about anything 
at all 

I blade 
on ice
quietly carrying 
one above 
smoothly across 
sometimes straight 
though frequently 
in circles 
no more 
than brush
dipped in 
paint broad
or thin 
creating art
on a
frozen lake