It is that time of year with Halloween and the holidays. Sometimes the holidays away from those you love, seems like the scary aspect of a foretelling story on Hallo’s eve. I prefer November 1st. It’s a remembrance of All Saint’s Day. Those you love you think about and the faith in the coming holidays. It’s time. Death is part of that journey. This is my own example of black out poetry. A poem of aging and and time.