Autumn’s sad this year.
Summer had no tears of joy.
A dull acquaintance!
(c) Rick Wyman 10/13/2025
Autumn’s sad this year.
Summer had no tears of joy.
A dull acquaintance!
(c) Rick Wyman 10/13/2025
Bone spurs, the big lie,
To start the path of deceit.
Gold coins fool the crows.
©Rick Wyman 3/2/25

Spout dripping sweet sap.
Snow skirts around maple trunks.
Sweeten my pancakes.
©Rick Wyman 2/25

Time came to my aid
When I searched without a light.
I awoke in love.
©R. Wyman 1/7/25

Classic notes on the piano,
The rumble of the furnace,
Background steady beat.
Music lessons propel
My daughter’s fingers.
Outside above the city skyline
The full moon takes a bow,
The bright disc shape looks down
As clouds provide curtain calls.
Meanwhile notes fill the air
And my heart fills with warmth
Another memory being made.
©Rick Wyman 11/16/24

Open eyes review
My life is going forward
The past freed to go.
(c) Rick Wyman 10/2/24

The first strand of the spider web
Caught my eye when it glistened in the sun.
The lightest puff of air stretched this delicate strand,
And sunlight danced back and forth along its span.
How fortunate to notice this tiny bit of nature.
So fragile, yet it beckons my attention with such strength.
Sometimes the highlights of our lives
Begin as such delicate threads of thought,
Like a whisper of our inner voice.
Then to really pay attention and reexamine
Purpose stretching thin,
Hopeful a glimpse of joy may follow in the end.
Now I contemplate the spanning time
From where I was and where I am glad to be.
In the center of my web.
© Rick Wyman

Concentrating on my life ahead
As I look through photos from the past
Reminders of happy times and faces
Today those people have struggles
Those people have dimmed lights
Some have disappeared altogether
Others have one hand on death’s door.
At times I have a glance at optimism,
Determination to live a long future.
My family to make it clear
That they are helping me to look ahead
They will make today worth being present
And tomorrow, even better.
©Rick Wyman 8/21/24

The breath of fresh air,
I inhale into my lungs,
Brings me thankful joy.
©Rick Wyman 8/16/24

Cramping in my hand
I recall my weathered past
Grasping memories.
(c) Rick Wyman 5/22/24
