Magazine Posts

As blindness approaches
the rays of the Sun,
carve out images,
in my mind,
of better days,
and happier times.

Streaking lights,
lightning flashes,
mar my senses,
a pathway to my soul.

How did life start this way?
Do I need to leave,
stay? should I,
or go I must, where,
the sun doesn't shine
while deranging my mind.

Alone am I,
sitting in my room.
An unhappy place,
sadness and gloom.

Out to the Courtyard,
bathed in Sun,
with little shade,
it's a lot of fun.

Purchased some plants,
to brighten the Courtyard.
Now filling the pots,
with soil and plants. Not bad.

Alone is the traveler,
lonely is the star,
he follows,
to find where you are.

Following his heart,
over many byways,
into the wild terrain,
on life's highways.

His journey continues,
by plane, train or car,
until the end,
finding where you are.

Roses and kings,
from long ago,
bring back memories,
of what I know.

Memories are such
as I think, it's serious.
for the old thoughts now
are scraps for the curious.

Thoughts which I had,
about the life we lead,
and find ourselves in,
with our memories dead.

My good friend and I weren't fast,
but we were old and fit.
He said, "Let's get up in front at the
starting line." My response was,
"Are you crazy?"

We went to the front,
and the gun went off.
I was sprinting for my,
life as this pack of young men,
half our age, were about to climb,
up our backs. Wow!

The next morning the
Eastside Journal, as it was,
called at the time, had a picture,
of my friend and I as the race started.
No terror in my face at that time.

Don't recall, how we finished, but,
remember we, in our infinite wisdom,
had ran a 10 K at Pt 'Defiance Park in
Tacoma.

I'm missing you now,
more than I can say,
as we rapidly approached,
our Anniversary date.

Sixty-six years
of wedded bliss.
We'll see it tomorrow,
with one more kiss.

You say you love me,
I know that you do,
as my heart swells,
because it's you.

You were asleep,
yesterday. I sat with
you for hours, a few,
leaving without telling
you, "Happy Anniversary".

Is it temporary blindness,
or is it just me,
when the wait staff,
fail to recognize me?

A wicked wind, from the South,
began to blow dust away,
from out the fields,
to the center of town.

Hurry, hurry, take in your wash,
hanging on the line to dry.
Wet clothes and blowing dirt,
will make a mess, is why.

He fumbles
and
mumbles,
when left alone.

He won't
be
with us,
not very long.

Does air and clouds shatter,
into pieces, onto the ground,
when aircraft break
the speed of sound?

In the still of the night,
when I should be asleep,
thoughts run through my head.
Many are shallow, some are deep.

Words, some familiar, some not,
rattling around, in this old mind.
Most are complimentary.
Seldom are they unkind.

Will all the lies
being told today,
change who we are,
while life goes away?