©2023 michael raven
i don't recall saying 'when i get old, i will obsess about color' and, yet, here we are and i am obsessing about color i paint it black, just like that stones song though my heart is red, my head is growing white, and my brain burns inside, just as yellow as the sun hanging in the sky when i look at my bucket list, what a sorry list it has become: 1. stone, thrown 2. tree, hollowed 3. mushroom, hear 4. crow, eyes 5. color, the winds no paradises or lasting mementos, just sitting with my blanket and watching a rising sun with coffee in my hand how sad.
sceadugenga 
Cuando uno logra estar bien consigo mismo no hay mejor compañía. Como dijo el poeta ” quien lo probó lo sabe”
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There’s something incredibly beautiful about this poem. Growing older certainly changes our hopes/dreams. We start to reevaluate what we see as success. I love your list.
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Thank you. I think my target for success is much more simple these days.
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