I am lucky to have red maple trees out my window Especially in November When without losing their dignity they put on a show One which I always remember Through these fifty years of looking out and watching them grow Taller each year but always red
Some who watched with me once are dead While some who watch with me now were not yet even born when I gathered those leaves with wonder For the first time standing under Those red maple trees of my memories looking up then Imagining what it would be like now In the far distant future to share these Red maple trees November memories
Very well stated with a glimpse of the future and a hopeful look forward my friend. I love the autumn but now as the leafs dissappear and the cold north winds blow and now and then I see flurries of white in the air I sure feel cold. Your poem warmed me thank you old friend,
(Richard M. Feldman) Ever since I was a young boy, the only thing I wanted to be was a cowboy. I wanted to own and work on a real ranch, with cattle and horses. Especially horses.
While I never became a cowboy, considering everything I have done
TRUE STORY. Bella survived an abusive powerbroker father with organized crime ties, a drug-addicted mother and a physically/sexually abusive brother. Shocking & inspirational. When she couldn't cry, she tattooed a crying angel to cry for her.
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