And the beat goes on

A thin crust of ice
a leafless tree
a waveless pond
a dock unused
the plow lies dormant and rusting in the field.

Winter sheds its merciless slow death upon us.

the lights seem to glow alittle bit different here,
a magical video quality fills the air
as if all were in fast forward
in time lapse photography
unfolding the nightshift
masking the obvious
the eyes play tricks of perception upon us
in twilight time all things are possible.

Who is that that passes us by?
Is it myself I see?
Is it the myself I would like to be?

He smirks as he passes
disdain in his manner.
His thoughts are all filled with uncourteous patter,
a sneer of a smile shows sharp tooth intent
an adolescence benevolently wasted, unspent.
To recapture glory,
to live but again,
the price that we pay is sorrow, but then
what is fair cost of hope; second times?
How high the bar we hope to outshine?
What we missed out on and what we've took on,
One but does wonder, where has it gone?

And the beat goes on.