Each decade is a shock of revelation. True, by looking back we know we grow. We age, we laugh, we cry, we grieve, and the racing river of time does not cease. Wild hairs, fine lines that turned to wrinkles, the sagging body, the weakening…

In autumn when leaves blanket my yard I hope unlike most others for rain before I rake The added mess of raking wet leaves is much preferred for it hastens their decay and olfactory air Intoxicating I inhale my youth forest floor of Hanson’s woods…

There once was a time a long, not forever ago when a girl told me a secret not shared with just anyone but she and I were a thing and she was the first, of a sort and what she told me shouldn’t have made…

The first heart I ever broke was my own you could call it a ricochet I’ll go with stupid   though immature is a reasonable copout when I am feeling self-charitable   at nineteen, we were in love – not lust well defined lines obeyed…