Inhale, the arms float up, Exhale, the arms float down, Namaste, at the heart. Inhale, the body bends, Hands at top of mat,

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

Red and gold leaves Falling, Sing to me Of the season of change, Before the snow,

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

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

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

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

The buck in the garden Chewing up hard earned Labor, His antlers raise, His ears perk up, as

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

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

Pretend there is no tomorrow becau… there might not be. Live like there is only this momen… that is the truth. Nothing is solid but whispery,

The birds flock to the bird feeder, some with black, capped heads and others with

Memories of my childhood Visit more and more Each day, As ghosts of past relatives Cast their shadows,

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

Soft gray clouds pass slowly by, Soon they will release a gift of r… Trees are shedding their leaves As they turn red, orange and yello… Signaling the squirrels to collect…