Ready for this pandemic to be over, but who isn't! 7/2020
Summer is near it’s end, I regret not visiting my childhood home, near the gulf, where the sunset
Itchy eyes scaly feet achy joints and bad teeth hair so fine
It’s that time of year again. The sound of honking geese fills the air, as they pass in alignment, to the Deep South.
To open and risk hurt... Or stay closed but Never really live. Pain can reveal... A connection to
It’s a billion stars moving and co… While we sleep. It’s one miracle after another and… We do not take the leap. It’s the great heave of nature
You may not know what you’ll do next: Hit the open road With your thumb stuck out. Give up all you own
Red sun in the morning rolling up the side of earth. The sky turned pink, as a ball of fire showed it’s strength,
I lay still While my loved one, Sleeps. His warm hand In my hand,
In the blink of an eye It’s a different scene On the big movie screen So easy to get absorbed In the story line of time.
My spirit communes with the four directions: To the north are in-laws, our aging mother, her last
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…
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.
If I had all the time In the world To write, What would I say? What would be the most
The white snow lay gently on the ground in a swirl pattern. The sky, a slab of smooth grey stone.