new years day. concrete caskets line the storm battered shore of promontory point. ice crystals pink my face as i ride. my old frostbite moans softly in my right hand, my left handed joints feel the receding jerks of little bear months ago. my wheels make soft crisp cyclic whispers under me. i see the girl living in the bus stop shelter across from the empty laboratory school. i'm a lucky one with a wistful glance going to a cozy home.