What is truth?
It’s a changing sky,
One day clear,
The next, cloudy,
Holding the blue and grey,

Orange full moon
with a half smile,
a hanging lantern,
lighting the way,
through dark streets,

Great scientific minds
Working for cures
Of terminal diseases,
The clock ticks...
What is the cure

As I enter my sixty-third year,
Fall leaves grace the path
I love,
With hues of red,
Gold and orange.

Summer is near it’s end,
I regret not visiting my
childhood home,
near the gulf,
where the sunset

On a walk, many
Brown-Eye Susan line
the border, before the woods.
Rain clouds move closer
as if to give a hug, while

In the dead
Of Winter,
I long for Spring.
In the rains
Of Spring,

The misty, night rain,
Soaking bare trees,
Bringing nourishment.
I stand at the window,
A steady beat echoes

My heart is a good heart,
It beats strongly
And works hard,
To keep me alive.
My mind is a good mind,

Dark bulk of a single bird,
With red puffed up chest,
As winter’s breeze sways his perch

You may not know what you’ll
do next:
Hit the open road
With your thumb stuck out.
Give up all you own

Life is like a dream
A star studded sky
A blink of an eye
Oh, how life slips by.
Life is like a song

In the bright moments
My mind is a flame,
Melting obstacles,
Gaining gifts of wisdom.
In the dark moments

I lay still
While my loved one,
Sleeps.
His warm hand
In my hand,

When I first heard
“The Blackbird,”
In the middle
Of night,
I was just thirteen.

Holiday cheer and laughter,
Multicolored lights blink faster,
Music of love and good will,
Grace the air like snowflakes.
Tis the season to be compassionate

Squirrels with bushy orange tails
leap about the deck.
Crickets hum, confused that
it’s not dark yet.
The caw of a blue jay

Life is but a dream,
our fantasies,
spill, like liquid tears
that pool and vaporize
into the air.

Not sure what to write
while the world
is on the brink
of another war.
While others face

Sometimes wonder
about a star,
way afar.
How life might be
in outer space,

When I grow really old
I may have to do yoga
Full time, to get out
The aches and creaks.
When I grow really old

Memories of my childhood
Visit more and more
Each day,
As ghosts of past relatives
Cast their shadows,

The many places I have been
And countless faces I have seen,
The many tales to be told,
Into the universe, they unfold.
It’s all a passing show,

Pink hues from the west
Filter through
Snow covered boughs
Leaving,
The evening light

The lines in my hand,
Were read once,
By a gypsy, who
Predicated a long life...
But with many interruptions.

Leaves falling,
Another season
Decorating the earth.
One red leaf
In my path,

Standing at a crossroad
Between this life
And the next,
Heart in hand
I knock on that

What is the happiest moment of the
When I make someone laugh
When I am of use for the good
When I show kindness
When I hold a hand

Walking on the beach
of long ago,
the constant roll
of the gulf,
it’s sound, like a lullaby.

Yellow finches
Line the bird feeder
Against Spring’ s canopy
Of green and purple tapestry.
Back and forth they go

Sitting on the lake shore,
Which made my heart soar,
The water rippled at times,
Swirled into beautiful lines,
Clouds reflected in it’s mirror,

When you are not here
An empty heart full of fear
Arises and wonders
If I will see you again.
What will I do without

Pretend there is no tomorrow becau
there might not be.
Live like there is only this momen
that is the truth.
Nothing is solid but whispery,

Just a small part of me
wants strife to go away,
to return to a kinder time.
Am I just losing courage?
Life is draining me,

Walking on the edge,
Between awareness and sleep.
Sometimes...
I’m in the moment,
I feel my body,

Rolling painted deserts
of the west.
Shrub bushes dot
sloping hillsides.
Relentless sun heats up