Kissing the Sun

Into a garden pond
reflection
one childhood summer
I gazed 
flicking sticks
at the stillness
trying to remove any trace of who I saw
I disappeared
and reappeared
in between silent rings
believing I would last forever

And I yearned for fish or frogs
to delay this time
to stall my world
for the sun to empty
me away
a clean sweep behind the grey

When autumn came
I scooped, with grown-up hands
dead leaves
from covered pools
sounds of
grieving branches
all around 
such bad company
for a young man with
buried identity

Then frozen diffused light
one winter morning came, but
enshadowed by a bare fruit tree 
there was no longer any me.
I swung and cracked the ice,
with picks and blistered skin
blinded by summer shards of
a person I left there once.