Published by e-Fiction India. 4-2016.
Pale blue moon Of August, Peeking behind The clouds, Luminous,
Sometimes wonder about a star, way afar. How life might be in outer space,
Yellow finches Line the bird feeder Against Spring’ s canopy Of green and purple tapestry. Back and forth they go
What is truth? It’s a changing sky, One day clear, The next, cloudy, Holding the blue and grey,
Twilight slides in quietly as birds fly to warm nests. Pink hues of evening reflect in the clouds. Soon the moon
Itchy eyes scaly feet achy joints and bad teeth hair so fine
Every hour we are someone Different, Every day something new Learned, Death is just another
An owl hoots on this cool, crisp Spring night. A sound that’s distant yet echos
Old friends walking on the beach, the waves bring in, memories, of carefree days;
The dance of fear, Of not being enough, Stops and starts. The unknown, an Uncharted sea,
Ambition seems overrated at this time of life, effort seems more like strife. In my youth I was motivated by a hungry desire
The wind went through me, it carried the yellow, orange and red leaves lightly on the air. Another change is coming,
If I had all the time In the world To write, What would I say? What would be the most
Driving through the small towns of America, children of all colors playing in the streets, some with tattered clothes
Holy Holy Morning glory Blooming in a haze Of purple light. Holy Holy