Red, yellow and orange leaves Fall quickly now And create a tapestry of color That fill my mind With joy.

Time passing by now In a blink of the eye, In the clap of a hand, In the chirp of a bird, In a flash of light

When I first heard “The Blackbird,” In the middle Of night, I was just thirteen.

Not sure where we are headed, Could be a long ride, Keep your heart steady, Open wide your eyes. There is something to learn

The gift of summer Is the sound of a Creek flowing through Rocks. A blue bird perched

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

Itchy eyes scaly feet achy joints and bad teeth hair so fine

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

It’s a billion stars moving and co… While we sleep. It’s one miracle after another and… We do not take the leap. It’s the great heave of nature

In the rustle of leaves the wind plays a tune, the change of season is on the horizon. It asks permission

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

This evening the blank, white page is open. My nerves are on edge, while a storm forms on the horizon.

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

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,