The snow falls
On my naked body,
White covering
My open wounds.

The light leaving my eyes,
This is a blessed demise.
My blood running cold,
I no longer feel old.

My skin,
Pale with cold.
My hands,
Numb and old.

My wrinkles
Fade to nothing
As I begin my descent
Into mourning.

I suddenly feel saddened
That it must end so soon—

But then I remember
I am not the youthful girl I used to be
That December.

My moment of recall begins to fall,
Like a fragile ember.
I do not feel like I did
That December.

I was able to accomplish so much
Yet—
So little
In my wide-span life.

So much—
Because I met my first love,
Had my first kiss,
And was someone to miss.

But so little—
Because everyone can do those things.

No, so much—
Because all those little things
Make great things for me.

I realize that life is a fragile hourglass.
Some clumps in the sand might slow it down,
But the result is still the same.
I solemnly find out
That this is the end of my game.

And after all this time—
After all these years—

I remember.

The best thing,
The most beautiful thing,


Was that one day.
That one day,
When I fell in love with you.

The moment in my life most worthy to remember—


Was that day,



That December.