Poems and Thoughts    by Frank Maurer

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A Last Stage. Two days into a five-day rain spree. No rain for all of January--a dry time. But now all has suddenly changed-- Dark skies, cold wind, and a leaky ceiling to boot! My days now--especially these presently are so different From my past, busy and very productive life. Sometimes it is hard to fill my hours, But of course that is not really true; I tend to my Betta fish, and feed lizards, Check email, finish the mail returns, and have a bite; Organize farm duties with Jessie, my 'man', Then write what is in my head-- Juxtaposed with needed calls to help save my planet. Evening comes and I can't bother anyone--too late for a call. Such a different life from what I formerly had-- Farming, markets, fishing (with seines), flower harvest, Educational boat cruises, and walks at Quail Ridge, Constant fundraising, and creating an ever-new brochure. How many more things, I might be able to recount. My mind spins as I was at 40, but my body slows. It is a dilemma I must absolutely get through, But it is uncomfortable to be at all impaired. I must make the best of things and do the best That my weakening body allows. I must stay in good spirits, not to turn off My younger interactees. I am full of life, but know that the end is slowly pending. Frank Maurer 2 February 2025 0040 Hours.