(2014)
After a ride through the desert which is haunting and beautiful at the same time.
Driving through the small towns of America, children of all colors playing in the streets, some with tattered clothes
Photos are all I have At times, Of smiling familiar faces, My family spread out. I would travel often
Unable to be all things For all people, Perhaps at one time, I tried. Those days are
There is my shadow, A dark outline of this body And yet, it also holds, The hidden imperfections Of my existence.
The buck in the garden Chewing up hard earned Labor, His antlers raise, His ears perk up, as
If I had all the time In the world To write, What would I say? What would be the most
Life is like a dream A star studded sky A blink of an eye Oh, how life slips by. Life is like a song
On a walk, many Brown-Eye Susan line the border, before the woods. Rain clouds move closer as if to give a hug, while
Walking down the dirt path, Sounds drift on the air, Birds chirping, leaves Rustling, dogs barking. Interconnection of life
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
Life is not fair at times... But of course things Change quickly down the line, We are born into a No guarantee world.
Squirrels with bushy orange tails leap about the deck. Crickets hum, confused that it’s not dark yet. The caw of a blue jay
The dance of fear, Of not being enough, Stops and starts. The unknown, an Uncharted sea,
Lately, a sadness pervades, I mourn for youth, perhaps passion of younger days. With age, some of that passion
The chimes outside the pottery studio ring like a temple bell, calling the faithful to honor,