(2015)
Driving through the small towns of America, children of all colors playing in the streets, some with tattered clothes
The hummingbirds are buzzing As well as the bees. The Orioles land gingerly On top of the feeder. Cautiously they move down
Itchy eyes scaly feet achy joints and bad teeth hair so fine
White heron skidding the blue, grey water, of the bay. How free and easy you make it look,
Some days you’re in bliss, Some days you’re in pain. Some days you’re up in the clouds, Some days you’re down in the flame… Some days you get what you want
At that magical time When the yellow moon Sets, And the pink mist Of dawn,
Ambition seems overrated at this time of life, effort seems more like strife. In my youth I was motivated by a hungry desire
My heart is a good heart, It beats strongly And works hard, To keep me alive. My mind is a good mind,
Time passing by now In a blink of the eye, In the clap of a hand, In the chirp of a bird, In a flash of light
Red, yellow and orange leaves Fall quickly now And create a tapestry of color That fill my mind With joy.
Just a small part of me wants strife to go away, to return to a kinder time. Am I just losing courage? Life is draining me,
I remember your smile, your laugh,… you gave so freely. It’s hard that you are gone. I sigh and walk along the bay.
When I first heard “The Blackbird,” In the middle Of night, I was just thirteen.
My spirit communes with the four directions: To the north are in-laws, our aging mother, her last
Walking on the edge, Between awareness and sleep. Sometimes... I’m in the moment, I feel my body,