(2014)
This is the America I know: A sea of white, black, red, yellow And brown faces, Strong minds and voices Raised to the sun,
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,
As I enter my sixty-third year, Fall leaves grace the path I love, With hues of red, Gold and orange.
On a walk this morning, the rocky cliffs that reach the blue-green sea, talk of strength today.
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 birds flock to the bird feeder, some with black, capped heads and others with
Last night I dreamt that I floated above the clouds, above the earth and my heart
Life is but a dream, our fantasies, spill, like liquid tears that pool and vaporize into the air.
Walking on the beach of long ago, the constant roll of the gulf, it’s sound, like a lullaby.
Squirrels with bushy orange tails leap about the deck. Crickets hum, confused that it’s not dark yet. The caw of a blue jay
Many thoughts in the mind, Some productive, some not. They glow like fires, Created by needs and
If we could embrace our sorrow and surf on our tears, surely our hearts would grow wider to hold the years
Red bird perched on a tree limb laced with snow. So happy to see him and the joy he brings.
Time passing by now In a blink of the eye, In the clap of a hand, In the chirp of a bird, In a flash of light
Half a world away, I walk a narrow, stone path. In the rice fields, the Balinese people