Driving down the road, The song, “Let It Be” Came on the radio. Taking me back to Various scenarios.

In the rustle of leaves the wind plays a tune, the change of season is on the horizon. It asks permission

The gift of summer Is the sound of a Creek flowing through Rocks. A blue bird perched

Brown hawk with spotted tail, soaring on the wind, balancing like a sail. Your piercing cry

The hummingbirds are buzzing As well as the bees. The Orioles land gingerly On top of the feeder. Cautiously they move down

Holy Holy Morning glory Blooming in a haze Of purple light. Holy Holy

Tonight, the wind whistles as it rushes through the atmospher… Winter’s bare limbs of swaying trees, dance in the shadows.

On this New Year’s Eve Direction lost Drifting like blowing snow To and fro. A freeze comes

Dark bulk of a single bird, With red puffed up chest, As winter’s breeze sways his perch…

Photos are all I have At times, Of smiling familiar faces, My family spread out. I would travel often

On a walk this morning, the rocky cliffs that reach the blue-green sea, talk of strength today.

Driving through the small towns of America, children of all colors playing in the streets, some with tattered clothes

Sitting on the lake shore, Which made my heart soar, The water rippled at times, Swirled into beautiful lines, Clouds reflected in it’s mirror,

The buck in the garden Chewing up hard earned Labor, His antlers raise, His ears perk up, as

Walking on the beach of long ago, the constant roll of the gulf, it’s sound, like a lullaby.