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

It is what it is Despite my wishes for it, Otherwise. You are who you are Despite my expectations,

Red and gold leaves Falling, Sing to me Of the season of change, Before the snow,

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…

Lately, a sadness pervades, I mourn for youth, perhaps passion of younger days. With age, some of that passion

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

Looking at my journal’s Blank page While geese fly by and honk A greeting. The red cardinals

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,

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

The red cardinal high in a tree, caught my attention with his melodious chirp on my daily walk.

Perhaps it is the mind separating things into this and that. Perhaps it is the mind with it’s preferences

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

White heron skidding the blue, grey water, of the bay. How free and easy you make it look,

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