Every hour we are someone Different, Every day something new Learned, Death is just another

The white snow, thin Like sand, over The fields, blowing Across the road. My car rambles

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

Her smile was like gold, Her lines were often bold, Her stories of wisdom told, In books that are now sold. She has left the earth,

Easing down the gravel road, yellow leaves spiral across, like a welcome

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.

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

Driving down the road, The song, “Let It Be” Came on the radio. Taking me back to Various scenarios.

Half a world away, I walk a narrow, stone path. In the rice fields, the Balinese people

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

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

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

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