(2014)
On a walk one day, all the sounds seemed interconnected. Sounds of life, in harmony with each other.
Pale blue moon Of August, Peeking behind The clouds, Luminous,
The many places I have been And countless faces I have seen, The many tales to be told, Into the universe, they unfold. It’s all a passing show,
Pink hues from the west Filter through Snow covered boughs Leaving, The evening light
My spirit communes with the four directions: To the north are in-laws, our aging mother, her last
It is what it is Despite my wishes for it, Otherwise. You are who you are Despite my expectations,
When I first heard “The Blackbird,” In the middle Of night, I was just thirteen.
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
The hummingbirds are buzzing As well as the bees. The Orioles land gingerly On top of the feeder. Cautiously they move down
If I had all the time In the world To write, What would I say? What would be the most
Itchy eyes scaly feet achy joints and bad teeth hair so fine
Old friends walking on the beach, the waves bring in, memories, of carefree days;
Mr. R. would talk about his deceased brother, he dreamed about him frequently; also of an eagle
Rolling painted deserts of the west. Shrub bushes dot sloping hillsides. Relentless sun heats up
Many thoughts in the mind, Some productive, some not. They glow like fires, Created by needs and
My heart is a good heart, It beats strongly And works hard, To keep me alive. My mind is a good mind,