The Day After

The day after my little man,
the father of my little girl,
was scheduled to die,
(death waits for no one;
he didn't make it),

I took my new friend,
my new companion
for a walk to the same spot
I last walked my little girl.

And I took this pic.

2016

A soft painting of light,
reflection, ice, and shadow.

2015

Like the small stream,
the small spike moves through time,
bound by limits.
Commonsense limits
can be beautiful.