Through all circumstance instinct prevails,
the edge, the possibility, the fringe of today,
the never-ending tomorrows. Creating identity,
a challenging existence in our special place,
waning stars weaving webs of the unknown.
Snow clinging to winter grass, ice darts hanging
from windowsills, the image of our love weaves in
and out of the clouds toward the moon. In this
perfect place, we live in freedom, melding into
periphery, living in equality, outside of entropy.