Strangers and Angels: Poems

Sit by the lakeside as "sensuous lips of the setting sun drink lustily from the gold-drenched lake." Listen as the "dawn appears clandestinely with no greater sound than the whispered breath of a sleeping baby." Watch when "a darkening canopy of approaching night settles its heaviness lighter than a setting hen." Wait with the author in a chemo lounge while "sterile liquid fire drips more quietly than the death it may forstall, forbidden to be touched by anything which might erupt in flames. Then what about the veins through which the fire-in-blood flows through my body to my heart?"Between Book Ends, title of the third  section, invites readers to reflect on life's beginnings and endings. The author looks over his 84 years with: "Measure the harvest of my life if you must, but measure appropriately. Living well consists in tender mercies, joy, abundant love and eternal peace."