When the air is cold
And my hands are pale
I can see my scars,
Memories of small battles
Fought and won over the years,
In the end they disappear
When the sun warms my skin
But I know they are still there
And for as long as I keep
This souvenir of flesh and bone
I feel I can never truly fail;
The road is bumpy and slippery,
Sometimes I even lose sight of the trail,
But the river is never far
And I thirst for running water.
Nothing to add this time, it’s all there.