October, 2019
The flesh withers as we age But our inner spirit Remains the same. And when the body dies The spirit breaks free
Thoughts flicker like twinkling lights, ride them across the sky. Embrace your dream,
I lay still While my loved one, Sleeps. His warm hand In my hand,
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…
An owl hoots on this cool, crisp Spring night. A sound that’s distant yet echos
If I had all the time In the world To write, What would I say? What would be the most
Misty fog floating through bare trees. Cold waves of wind coarse through the woods whistling as they go
When I sit And watch The in and out Of breath, Thoughts no longer
Driving through the small towns of America, children of all colors playing in the streets, some with tattered clothes
The white snow lay gently on the ground in a swirl pattern. The sky, a slab of smooth grey stone.
As I enter my sixty-third year, Fall leaves grace the path I love, With hues of red, Gold and orange.
As I age this last quarter of my life, I am fading into the background. As I let go of roles,
The red cardinal high in a tree, caught my attention with his melodious chirp on my daily walk.
Dark bulk of a single bird, With red puffed up chest, As winter’s breeze sways his perch…
Rolling painted deserts of the west. Shrub bushes dot sloping hillsides. Relentless sun heats up