Driving at 65 MPH on the I-10, listening to the remaster of Lonely Fire by Miles Davis—
A twenty minute vibe and an irony as the nights begin to chill
/commanding my hairs to attention, 
numbing my bones\
                          the common cold in my near future
Brisk nights, glass windows nonexistent, 
sun retreating earlier than normal.

My ardor dwindles at the sight of exterior happiness in the filter entitled, “Winter”.
Spirit growing bitter from the taste of holidays and core memories infesting this season’s oxygen. 
Cold weather— the trigger of my  hippocampus. 
The coldest of the four seasons—
the trigger of reflection. 

What have we learned?What have we accepted?Who am I now?

We have acknowledged the idea of letting go–
Releasing nouns that hold no significance, 
nor need to be in my life, 
                                        or want me in theirs. 
Learning to pull back when our giving is abundant. 
Gifts and time carving mean nothing to friendship
Accepting that we can not be saviors to others’ pain when our own is tucked between our coats. 

       The journey of boy sprouting to man.