he gazes
at the streaking
shooting star
her lasting legacy
of love and warmth
the
regal tree
bends with the wind
bowed but not broken
he celebrates
his 80th birthday
winter night
I welcome the warmth
of the coffee mug
coursing my hand
like her touch
I left
four pennies
on the gambler's gravestone
remembering how
my friend's luck
ran out so soon
often
I feel alone
amidst a crowd
still hard to fill the void
you left behind
I dread
the dark demons
that chase my dream
your touch is so real
am I in love again
