Next Station
by Diane Sciacchitano, North Massapequa, NY

You kept my bones so straight, so strong
Estrogen you are mine – you belong
No time to rest
Days full of zest
A face that has a constant glow
Nowhere in sight a wrinkle or crow.
A new day dawns - come what may
Try not to view with much dismay.
No need to mourn for days of old
When we possessed a mind so bold.
I peer in the mirror and to my surprise
Peering back at me - my mother’s eyes.
Were those lines there yesterday?
Can’t seem to recall - I may say
Now skin that has the look of dew
A fitful night of ‘flashes’
I attribute that to.
The memory - a little groggy
Just like the weather - sometimes foggy.
Guess this must be what all the fuss is about
Sung in songs that praise and shout
Rejoice and be glad
A new you awaits around the bend
Time to make peace with your new friend.
Embrace it all, this next stage
Adventure waits, just turn the page.
We’ll make it through these changes
We’ll strip away the gauze
We’ll come through this new stage in life
After all - it’s only Menopause.

Cousin Timothy
by Patricia Rossi, Long Island, NY

His eyes … Caribbean blue … Piercing
The most handsome of faces.
Boyish good looks tethered to effervescent charm.
A warm smile ... illuminated with compassion and enthusiasm.
His very being ... woven into a charismatic and entrepreneurial cloak.
Absolutely healthy and vibrant ... at thirty two.
He hailed from Rockaway, New York ... Born to surf.
His six-foot two inch frame majestically conquered the most ferocious of waves.
Until ... Tragedy … A sun-drenched weekend in July turbulently blackened … forever.
A terrible accident … A fatal head injury.
Suddenly, the gentle sounds of the ocean are ousted by blood curdling screams that reverberate through sterile, fluorescent-lit hospital corridors … Family members, acquaintances form huddled masses.
He has been taken from us … a precious life confiscated ... stolen.
Our faith ... completely shaken, crumbled … as we ... endlessly question.
His spirit, his presence ... Is it now relegated to a faint echo trapped in a
Rockaway wave?
No.
For a thirty five year old woman, blind since the age of ten, sees her husband and
her three year old son … for the very first time.
A wounded war veteran, forty-seven years old, takes a breath … without a ventilator.
A sixty one year old male is no longer held captive … to a dialysis machine.
For Cousin Timothy restores our faith and in the most generous of ways demonstrates that life can emerge from death … Cousin Timothy … an organ donor. 

WAKE UP
by Jerry Brown, Santa Fe, NM

The rules are for fools
If they make you partake

In the collusion of the illusion
That you are to be weak and be meek

In order for you to be obedient and compliant
To follow the rules made for obedient fools

BUT,

When you stop giving your consent to the one percent
And stop the cower to their misplaced power

You can begin to question their suggestion
That you just accept their concept

It will start the fall of their brazen gall
And put an end to their power trend

As you awaken your light to do what’s right
And follow your rules … not those for fools.

WAKE UP

Haiku
by Carmela Dolce, Medford, NY

Walking the winding
Labyrinth path
Clarity unravels chaos

Rejoice!
by ML Meade, Center Moriches, NY

How blessed am I, chosen
Of all the stars in the sky, the brightest came to shine
with me.

What joy it was for me to cherish you
Feel your warmth, your tenderness, your mischief.
How fortunate am I to have known your love.

My soul feels pain. A profound chasm
is opening where once you occupied my every day.

As your earthly body fails you, and you travel to
the dimensions of purity and infinity,
know I will forever and unfailingly be by your side.

Rejoice!
For we've had the divine blessing of loving one another.