Old In The Winter

I get older in the winter.

         And younger in the summer.

. . .

    That’s it. 

  That’s the poem. 

. . .

. . .

 . . .

You can leave now. 

    . . .

. . . 

That’s really it. 

. . .

. . .

    I get older in the winter. 

. . .

   And I get younger in the summer. 

. . .

. . .

As a result,

    I never age. 

. . .

    It’s true. 

I’m still Clint Haugen. 

    Nothing about that has changed. 

I never age. 

. . .

. . .

    I just change the way I behave. 

I just interpret the same signs differently these days. 

    Still in the same shoes.

Still wearing the same jackets. 

    Still rocking with the same bad habits. 

A few new scars remind me of who I used to be. 

    A few of the stars remind me that I am a part of everything. 

And a few trees breathe life into me. 

    There’s no escaping it,

I am a part of everything.

   The realization is both powerful and humbling.

I am a part of everything . . .

   And that’s my only identity. 

 . . .

  Alright, now you can leave. 

     . . .

Adios. 

. . .

Shit. 

. . . To make yourself smaller by separating yourself from everything else;

to disconnect from the infinite connections between living things;

   to cling to individualism like a babe on a tit,

is nothing

   but the desires

 of the ego. 

Don’t think smaller to starve the ego, think bigger. 

      You are a part of everything. And everything is a part of you. 

CH 5/26/26