I like the old.

It’s familiar,

Etched with character, ...

The strongest bonds,

Are rings,

That remain separate, ...

When rainbows appear,

On sunny or cloudy days,

I like to sit and stare, ...

Today’s reflections,

Like yesterday’s dreams,

I cannot clearly see. ...

Some lessons,

Have to repeat,

Before we learn, ...

I my thoughts,

I am a pebble,

Among many. ...

A letter of the alphabet,

A symbol to warn, or

An old-timer’s mark. ...

These days,

I find myself,

Experimenting with life, ...

I think of death,

Most every day.

It is a fact of life. ...

Today,

Unlike other days,

I vividly see, ...

As the years pass,

I too become streaked,

Carrying nature’s scars, ...

It is safe to say,

That I can’t differentiate,

The ordinary from a classic. ...

Maybe it’s nostalgia,

Or just sweet memories,

For today’s strawberries, ...

One early morning dream,

Tends to often repeat.

Despite seeming clarity, ...

Thoughts,

Happily playing around,

In my congested mind. ...

I gazed at it a while,

Waiting for meaning,

That refused to arrive. ...

Numbers,

Speak a language,

I am only now, ...

When thoughts rewind,

Refusing to leave my mind,

I suffer needlessly. ...

On some days,

Even candles need light,

When empty and spent, ...

When parts of me,

Under lock and key,

Inexplicably hide, ...