Looking back,

Each square,

Feels familiar. ...

Delicate, fragrant, layered,

With a natural glow.

On gloomy days, ...

Obligations,

Tend to wear on me,

Even though I know, ...

I recall the days,

When doors were closed,

The world felt cold, ...

They may look the same,

But only one,

Is meant for me. ...

I sleep better,

Knowing a few candies,

Are close at hand. ...

The longer,

I travel this road,

The more perspective, ...

Old pictures,

Bring back memories.

Of sweet innocent days, ...

When clear skies,

Can barely be seen,

It is futile to dream, ...

Few things in life,

Are black or white.

Like wildfires, ...

Daily,

I’m fed the news,

Through others’ eyes. ...

A faded,

Cracked wall,

Crying out for repair, ...

Flowers have taught me,

That freshness and joy,

Are states of mind. ...

Numbers speak,

A language of their own.

They never lie. ...

Why a wall,

Requires roofing,

Is hard for me, ...

Long summer days,

When we played,

With make-believe toys, ...

Precision,

Feels right.

One of my traits, ...

Today I can’t help,

But smile.

Outside is wet and grey, ...

I too,

Am slowly,

Becoming obsolete. ...

In the end,

All that we build,

Is for the journey. ...