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In the middle of December

clouds eclipse the moon.

Silver shadows dance on the snow.

An old man watches from his window,

silently, the diamond feathers drop



And I can’t help it, but I feel empty.

I can’t help to wonder where I’ll be

when I’ve reached my December.



Through the sky’s steamy window

the stars glow their brightest.  

The earth lay still under heavy shadows  

and the old man’s expression melts.

Loneliness drags his mouth to a frown.



And I can’t help it, but I feel empty

I can’t help to wonder where I’ll be

when I’ve reached my December



A tear glistens on his cheek

reflecting the past, reflecting his life.

Nobody is there to catch it as it falls.

Please, God ,let me have someone

to catch my tears in my December.



And I can’t help it, but I feel empty

I can’t help to wonder where I’ll be

when I’ve reached my December