a Poem

Is it a full circle,

the path we have seen?
If we could elect
The simplest of polygons

to represent hills, valleys
And space and time travel too
Would this one stroke

suffice?

No, I reject that.

Do we say then,

'The past is done; has been'?

'Accept it,

Mend the wounds, son,

But remember it.

Make it your own for it is part of you.'

Would this one platitude 

suffice?

No, I reject that.

For anguish and sadness

has warped me similarly

to the way a forgotten jacket may in subsequent days.

I may regret my choices for a time,

But neither will I shirk my next opportunity

Nor will unduly seek it.

I do not find myself back where I started.

Because I never made a turn.

You cannot reforge this cold steel

In spite of all your blows.