forty three

Soft naptime murmur
Can we have a cuddle, mum?
Christmas bustle's end

forty two

Holiday cookies
Mulled wine, dirty martini
Season of excess

forty one

Forecast interest wanes
December darkness descends
and it's always cold

forty

You too, are this age
Together we celebrate
grey hairs, hard work, home

thirty nine

Farsighted, you are
devastated and outraged
What will glasses gain?

thirty eight

First winter bike ride
wear wooly hat as helmet
Brave until aware

thirty seven

Today my third born
three years, or just yesterday
It goes by so fast