The essence of being
seasonless during the
winter month of
December haunts me
Snow-capped mountains,
and children sledding;
trucks plowing,
and men shoveling
Images that are
merely memories,
appear in my mind's
rear-view mirror -
Fading in the
distance like
the narrow streets
in St. Croix
As I drive these
littered streets
I let it all
fall behind
Living now
- this moment -
commands me
more than ever
Yet I cannot
seem to let
the yesterdays go
and the todays begin
