My sweetest Decembers

Standing where I am not knowing where I stand

I look on ahead, I do not know what I see

Illusions are they made of fond memory?

Walking because I have to walk but I dont know where I go

Looking back I see the the path I had been on

That is where I want to be back in my own history

I am very lost but I have to walk

Why must I walk I do not know

How many times has it been?

Oh so many, so many jumbled up pieces of red string

In autumn leaves, or sunflower bushes

In foggy windows, in dusty heat

But for me it was all just winter

So very very sweet december

So many pieces of jumbled red strings

I wish they would go away, for when they do its wonderful

Just me and ...