Published by e-Fiction India. 4-2016.
Ambition seems overrated at this time of life, effort seems more like strife. In my youth I was motivated by a hungry desire
Harsh reality smacks like a slap of cold wind. Sometimes I’m a tough sailor, at the helm,
It’s that time of year again. The sound of honking geese fills the air, as they pass in alignment, to the Deep South.
The birds flock to the bird feeder, some with black, capped heads and others with
One lit candle burns brightly As I make a wish upon it’s Golden aura, that Humankind May learn to caress the earth As the wind does a field of flower…
Yellow finches Line the bird feeder Against Spring’ s canopy Of green and purple tapestry. Back and forth they go
Soft gray clouds pass slowly by, Soon they will release a gift of r… Trees are shedding their leaves As they turn red, orange and yello… Signaling the squirrels to collect…
Not sure what to write while the world is on the brink of another war. While others face
Pretend there is no tomorrow becau… there might not be. Live like there is only this momen… that is the truth. Nothing is solid but whispery,
Thoughts flicker like twinkling lights, ride them across the sky. Embrace your dream,
The white snow, thin Like sand, over The fields, blowing Across the road. My car rambles
Pink hues from the west Filter through Snow covered boughs Leaving, The evening light
Tonight, the wind whistles as it rushes through the atmospher… Winter’s bare limbs of swaying trees, dance in the shadows.
On a walk this morning, the rocky cliffs that reach the blue-green sea, talk of strength today.
Life is but a dream, our fantasies, spill, like liquid tears that pool and vaporize into the air.