In My Untangling Soul. Poem by RIC BASTASA

a promise makes another promise
to begin anew for another day, as
always,

another day, it will be another day,
it will just be another day, there

will be no change for the better,
this self is destroying the same self,

on the other hand, promises are the buds
of springtime, and winter lags behind, and

autumn comes like another waiting time,
comes spring, i make promises again,

i am new now, but you shall never see it
in my shriveled hair, in my untangling soul.