Living on the edge of the World,
a much smaller place today,
as she suffers with an unbearable disease.
What cost for she and they?

I am at a loss.
A loss for words.
Yesterday was a good day.
We talked. Best time,
Enjoyable conversation, yet,
a faraway look, in her eyes.

Destroys me. I keep my
emotions in check,
when I want to cry, like now,
hours after I left her.
Went to bed at 10:30, and
awoke at 01:30. It is now
03:00 a.m.

How stupid am I?
It is so difficult for me.
Going to make the
decision for Hospice Care,
with the Drs. permission.

Hospice in my mind, is
the last step. A peaceful exit
from the suffering of my beloved.
God, I hate this.

A muse about waiting to order breakfast when the cloak of
invisibility covers you.

I see you walk by
as you're going away.
Is this another time
when I turn invisible?

I left after waiting 20 minutes,
of being ignored, even when
the wait person was 5 feet away.
No greeting or acknowledgement
that I was present.

My mind is a wasteland,
an empty place,
full of old ideas,
out in space.

Thoughts, bounce around,
without a direction,
turned back by being,
forced into rejection.

Why do I exist?
To serve another,
a woman I have loved,
as my wife and kids Mother.

A few days ago, I spent the afternoon
with my beloved.
My eyes were moist,
my hankie, damp,
from tears, leaking from my eyes,
as I saw my beloved,
in an almost Catatonic state.

Here I sit, awaiting,
alongside of you.
You say, "I don't know you,"
though you make eye contact.

My mind has grown cloudy,
strange thoughts in play.
Another favorite
is going away.

I'll miss you,
your perky smile,
with quick wit,
it's your style.

No more the light,
from your eyes, shine.
It matters not,
for you are mine.

My love for you,
has no bounds,
while your voice,
emits beautiful sounds.

What has thou wrought?
Love has gone away,
and shan't be back,
until a happier day

I see a faraway look,
in her eyes,
a thousand-yard stare,
and a look prompting sighs.

Where are you now,
my sweet girl?
Are you lost in this life,
where everything is a twirl?

Sweet and low,
off and running,
sometimes it's better,
than being cunning.

When I was fifteen years of age,
I rode a horse on a cattle drive.
Moving the cattle, down the country
roads, through Sagebrush and other plants.

After one day of riding, my rear end was
sore, and we kept on "driving the cattle,
toward our goal, which was a ranch,
east of Ellensburg.
My legs were sore after being in the
saddle. I didn't know what I was doing
but quarter horse knew every move the
cattle would make, cut them, off so
we could continue our drive.
Great memories of that time.