Red bird perched on a tree limb laced with snow. So happy to see him and the joy he brings.

At that magical time When the yellow moon Sets, And the pink mist Of dawn,

Remember the night we took your mother’s car and drove over the skyway bridge? The moon was a bright light to show the way.

Autumn wind Brings scattered leaves, Splattered, With red and gold. Autumn wind

On a walk this morning, the rocky cliffs that reach the blue-green sea, talk of strength today.

Last night I dreamt that I floated above the clouds, above the earth and my heart

Not a word heard As the river flows Over rock, around Banks that lie Waiting for visitors.

Today, I wish the pain to go, the fatigue that I fight so. This process of aging is unkind and yet, the law of nature is a fast lane of change.

Mr. R. would talk about his deceased brother, he dreamed about him frequently; also of an eagle

The dance of fear, Of not being enough, Stops and starts. The unknown, an Uncharted sea,

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

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

As I age this last quarter of my life, I am fading into the background. As I let go of roles,

First snow of the season Came down light and gay, With it’s bright white, Reflecting, Off slow moving clouds

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