In the depths of the journey casting a shadow over the sky as the wind moves through the night and into the morning sunrise; shadows are still pictures from within the minds eyes holding onto wisdom and insight of our own true life

Whoever thought one day I'd let my hair go gray and walk with a sway
"They are only laughter lines" I told myself, disregarding a wrinkle in time.
I promised to be one of those ladies who would look suave at sixty five,  
but when you see me walk down the isle, I cannot hide that lombar slide.
I will wear dresses of fresh linen with only leather belts that buckle,
and when my shaky hands refuse to still, I'll blame it on my knuckles !
When I looked into the mirror then,... all I saw was a pretty girl,  
but now I see two kindly eyes and a memory impearled  !  
I rise at 6 and retire at 9, I sleep on my side for the one I adore,    
lovie says that when I snore, it sounds like a lion's roar !
I am happy with my life,  
and although I lose my train of thought sometimes,
I still wake up every morning feeling grateful,
that I am still able to dress, to the nines...

On those long Summer days
sometimes we'd sit on the hill,
until the train came
and we'd wave,
pretending
we were 'the railway children'

and now
I'm as old as Cribbins and can
barely remember,
how fine
Jenny Agutter
looked.

Everest
makes brothers
of the fiercest  
enemies
of the most
distant strangers
of the worst
ill intended
of the lost
— and the found

(Kathmandu: May, 1982)