Driving through the small towns of America, children of all colors playing in the streets, some with tattered clothes

When I grow really old I may have to do yoga Full time, to get out The aches and creaks. When I grow really old

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

One lit candle burns brightly As I make a wish upon it’s Golden aura, that Humankind May learn to caress the earth As the wind does a field of flower…

Firefly shine your light, Brighten my life, Lead the way, through The meadows, in my mind. Firefly, float so high,

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

The misty, night rain, Soaking bare trees, Bringing nourishment. I stand at the window, A steady beat echoes

An owl hoots on this cool, crisp Spring night. A sound that’s distant yet echos

I lay still While my loved one, Sleeps. His warm hand In my hand,

In the blink of an eye It’s a different scene On the big movie screen So easy to get absorbed In the story line of time.

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

Geese are honking As they fly Across an orange colored Sky. My spirit soars

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,

Birds flying here and there, landing on branches to chirp and bare, their heart. A private club among the trees with their own private code.

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