III. Winter Again

Now, it's winter again. It's cold as hell and my whole body aches. And it's been years since I moved back north and raised my family and sold off my tools. But I sometimes think about one last trip, most likely taken on a Greyhound bus this time.

And when I think of that, I'm sometimes able to convince myself that all I'd need, to make it work, is that singular moment when you look out the window and, instead of wind-whipped trees and driven snow, there's the sight of Palm trees bending, ever so slightly, in an ocean breeze...