The white snow lay gently on the ground in a swirl pattern. The sky, a slab of smooth grey stone.

Time is going by fast, Trying not to live in the past, To keep priorities straight And not falter at the gate. To join the universal goal

Standing at a crossroad Between this life And the next, Heart in hand I knock on that

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

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

What if, The simple things In life, were the Most important Events.

My heart is a good heart, It beats strongly And works hard, To keep me alive. My mind is a good mind,

Ambition seems overrated at this time of life, effort seems more like strife. In my youth I was motivated by a hungry desire

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

The chimes outside the pottery studio ring like a temple bell, calling the faithful to honor,

Life is but a dream, our fantasies, spill, like liquid tears that pool and vaporize into the air.

This is the America I know: A sea of white, black, red, yellow And brown faces, Strong minds and voices Raised to the sun,

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

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

Grateful for: Sunrise of pink and gold Showing the way, Lighting the sky, To another blessed day.