Ready for this pandemic to be over, but who isn't! 7/2020
As we shared stories, The warm hum of voices heard, A cup of love spilled.
Brown hawk with spotted tail, soaring on the wind, balancing like a sail. Your piercing cry
When I first heard “The Blackbird,” In the middle Of night, I was just thirteen.
Inspiration is in the falling of rain, the soft coo of birds in late afternoon, the sinking of the
There is my shadow, A dark outline of this body And yet, it also holds, The hidden imperfections Of my existence.
Her smile was like gold, Her lines were often bold, Her stories of wisdom told, In books that are now sold. She has left the earth,
Sometimes wonder about a star, way afar. How life might be in outer space,
Many thoughts in the mind, Some productive, some not. They glow like fires, Created by needs and
Cold spring rain chills my body And yet, the birds fly in unison As if, it is a sunny day. The white tail deer Bounce through the ravine
As I enter my sixty-third year, Fall leaves grace the path I love, With hues of red, Gold and orange.
The misty, night rain, Soaking bare trees, Bringing nourishment. I stand at the window, A steady beat echoes
The dance of fear, Of not being enough, Stops and starts. The unknown, an Uncharted sea,
My heart is a good heart, It beats strongly And works hard, To keep me alive. My mind is a good mind,
To open and risk hurt... Or stay closed but Never really live. Pain can reveal... A connection to
Not sure what to write while the world is on the brink of another war. While others face