The Widower’s Dream

The years have gone, but you have not.
In dreams you are alive as day,
And warm as a fire, flickering hot,
While snow around our house does lay.

But this is the vision mine alone,
The blue so vivid, scents so real,
From which people say I must move on
As though I could turn off how I feel

In the Days of the Distant Mountain

In the days of the distant mountain,
We counted our inhales;
We laughed at the breakfast table,
And spun our aging tales
 To an audience of newfound friends
 That changed at a climbing rate --
 In the days of the distant mountain,
 We chose to congregate.

In the place of the desert stillness,
We took the daily heat,
The nightly cold, the streaming stars,
And ate what we could eat,
 Til we knew that our time exploring
 Had narrowed to a room --
 In the place of the desert stillness,
 The cactus flowers bloom
   In springtimes we will never see,
   A hazy sunlit dome:
   Beneath the distant mountain
   Is our eternal

   Home.

A Tuscan Spring

She sees them in a Tuscan Spring
The family that they should have had
A world of wonder beckoning

Is love a good thing or a bad?
For grief is the price love pays to time
The two-sided coin, the joyous and

The sad

A Wind Along the Shore

She lost her friend, her long-best-friend -- 
She had spent years beside her -- 
The world seems ever-heavy now, 
And quieter 

But look, the sea is listening, 
And maybe there's yet more: 
In loving happy memories,  
And wind along 

The shore