11-7-2018
Red, yellow and orange leaves Fall quickly now And create a tapestry of color That fill my mind With joy.
The flesh withers as we age But our inner spirit Remains the same. And when the body dies The spirit breaks free
This is the America I know: A sea of white, black, red, yellow And brown faces, Strong minds and voices Raised to the sun,
Orange full moon with a half smile, a hanging lantern, lighting the way, through dark streets,
Mr. R. would talk about his deceased brother, he dreamed about him frequently; also of an eagle
As I enter my sixty-third year, Fall leaves grace the path I love, With hues of red, Gold and orange.
On this New Year’s Eve Direction lost Drifting like blowing snow To and fro. A freeze comes
In the dead Of Winter, I long for Spring. In the rains Of Spring,
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
Blue star behind tree branch. White cloud passing half moon. Black space surrounds like a
Cold spring rain chills my body And yet, the birds fly in unison As if, it is a sunny day. The white tail deer Bounce through the ravine
The hummingbirds are buzzing As well as the bees. The Orioles land gingerly On top of the feeder. Cautiously they move down
Twilight slides in quietly as birds fly to warm nests. Pink hues of evening reflect in the clouds. Soon the moon
The lines in my hand, Were read once, By a gypsy, who Predicated a long life... But with many interruptions.
On a walk, many Brown-Eye Susan line the border, before the woods. Rain clouds move closer as if to give a hug, while