(2013)
Haiku about friends
The flesh withers as we age But our inner spirit Remains the same. And when the body dies The spirit breaks free
Pink hues from the west Filter through Snow covered boughs Leaving, The evening light
My spirit communes with the four directions: To the north are in-laws, our aging mother, her last
On a walk, many Brown-Eye Susan line the border, before the woods. Rain clouds move closer as if to give a hug, while
It is what it is Despite my wishes for it, Otherwise. You are who you are Despite my expectations,
Memories of my childhood Visit more and more Each day, As ghosts of past relatives Cast their shadows,
It’s that time of year again. The sound of honking geese fills the air, as they pass in alignment, to the Deep South.
Lately, a sadness pervades, I mourn for youth, perhaps passion of younger days. With age, some of that passion
The lines in my hand, Were read once, By a gypsy, who Predicated a long life... But with many interruptions.
Great scientific minds Working for cures Of terminal diseases, The clock ticks... What is the cure
At that magical time When the yellow moon Sets, And the pink mist Of dawn,
Red, yellow and orange leaves Fall quickly now And create a tapestry of color That fill my mind With joy.
Red and gold leaves Falling, Sing to me Of the season of change, Before the snow,
I remember your smile, your laugh,… you gave so freely. It’s hard that you are gone. I sigh and walk along the bay.
Sometimes wonder about a star, way afar. How life might be in outer space,