forehead scar. nearly gone.
bicycle. round wheels.
rain falls.
maybe pancakes.
one thing to do.
meanwhile, remember to breathe.
hands badly scarred. but not red in some years.
back never straight as i'd like.
used to sneak light from hall, to read
never been to London bar.
in spring I'll plant
if winter doesn't make another man
from soil and snow
and wanting
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