Can love be lost,
After it's been found?
Will love, still be,
If we're not around?
What is this love,
That would still abound?
Does love, just leave,
With nary a sound?

Here is a scene from long ago.
Owning a car, so you could go
To visit the relatives in clothes worn.
One's you knew, since they were born.
A great time, as a faded memory
Of what was and what will be.

The sunlight
spirals downward; caught
by the dust in the trees,
then burrows into the
piles of scattered leaves.
Life goes on, as Sun rays
spill toward the sheltered ground.
There is a golden silence
for the wind blows, not now.
It will resume in morning
hours, before the Rooster crows;.
Life is beautiful when you
hear the Songbird sing
about a song and ring
of light, from the Sun above
filled with warmth
and with love.

Walking through a stand of trees
Snow is deep, up to my knees.
Keep on moving, if you please,
Moving so my toes don't freeze.
This happened prior to Gore-Tex days
When snowy water wet your boots,
Soaked your socks; froze your toes.
Why we did this? No one knows.