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

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

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

When you are not here An empty heart full of fear Arises and wonders If I will see you again. What will I do without

Embrace that which comes with ease: The twinkling of an eye, The drumbeat of a heart, The blooming of a flower,

Pale blue moon Of August, Peeking behind The clouds, Luminous,

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

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

The wind went through me, it carried the yellow, orange and red leaves lightly on the air. Another change is coming,

In the bright moments My mind is a flame, Melting obstacles, Gaining gifts of wisdom. In the dark moments

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

Life is not fair at times... But of course things Change quickly down the line, We are born into a No guarantee world.

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

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

Sitting on the lake shore, Which made my heart soar, The water rippled at times, Swirled into beautiful lines, Clouds reflected in it’s mirror,