(2015)
Brown hawk with spotted tail, soaring on the wind, balancing like a sail. Your piercing cry
Holy Holy Morning glory Blooming in a haze Of purple light. Holy Holy
Misty fog floating through bare trees. Cold waves of wind coarse through the woods whistling as they go
Itchy eyes scaly feet achy joints and bad teeth hair so fine
Red sun in the morning rolling up the side of earth. The sky turned pink, as a ball of fire showed it’s strength,
On a walk this morning, the rocky cliffs that reach the blue-green sea, talk of strength today.
Ambition seems overrated at this time of life, effort seems more like strife. In my youth I was motivated by a hungry desire
When you are not here An empty heart full of fear Arises and wonders If I will see you again. What will I do without
On the brink of leaving, To go beyond These borders And say good-bye, To all you know,
Unable to be all things For all people, Perhaps at one time, I tried. Those days are
I heard past generations In my son’s voice, I saw his life fly Into another dimension, A place, I can only imagine.
The misty, night rain, Soaking bare trees, Bringing nourishment. I stand at the window, A steady beat echoes
What inspires me... Hummingbirds buzzing as they land, on nearby flowers. Their amazing wings
Inspiration is in the falling of rain, the soft coo of birds in late afternoon, the sinking of the
Photos are all I have At times, Of smiling familiar faces, My family spread out. I would travel often