At days end,

It’s good to remember,

That numbers are also, ...

Days when looking

Into a mirror,

Brings laughter and levity, ...

Young growing on old.

A strange kind of mold.

Colors harmoniously blend, ...

A cloudy day,

When the sun still shines.

A sign, that all is fine. ...

A new freshness,

Floats through the air.

Birds chirp, ...

Icy days,

When fingers tingle,

Thoughts shiver, ...

Old, has its charm.

Beautiful and useful,

Yet easily overlooked. ...

Organized,

Neatly stacked,

Yet overgrown, cramped ...

Dress up,

Step outside,

Play, laugh, then cry, ...

Sometimes we crave

Appearing locked.

Seemingly complex, or strong. ...

There’s no need,

To constantly question,

Or search for meaning. ...

A soft sunrise,

When thoughts drift,

To distant lands, ...

Gnarled, bent, leafless,

Yet surrounded by

Adoring, spring flowers. ...

There are times,

When we don’t fit.

Trapped, standing out, ...

Grow,

But don’t cry.

Youth will disappear, ...

Whatever it is,

Do it well.

With passion, laughter, ...

Late winter days,

When the sun shines,

Yet iciness survives. ...

Colors come and go.

Shades of grey,

To be sure. ...

With imagination, courage,

A sense of humor,

Anyone can feel like a star, ...

Cut,

Neatly stacked,

Awaiting tomorrow’s plight. ...