I am destined to be alone. I know the empty is coming Those thoughts will be all I will have to paint with A warm summer evening; A sailboat, on the horizon; approaching the sun. Leaving behind the shore, not to meet it again. Life is happy and sadness combined; A Joy and lamentable upset. …

It saddens me, to think of what will eventually be; Death’s final finish; the master stroke of conclusion. But what of the canvas that lies unfinished? Or race that starts? Where is the valuer of unfinished works? A price is most elusive. Yet the valuer presides at the end; like a priest at a funeral. …