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,

The gift of summer Is the sound of a Creek flowing through Rocks. A blue bird perched

Not a word heard As the river flows Over rock, around Banks that lie Waiting for visitors.

My heart is a good heart, It beats strongly And works hard, To keep me alive. My mind is a good mind,

Geese are honking As they fly Across an orange colored Sky. My spirit soars

Itchy eyes scaly feet achy joints and bad teeth hair so fine

Memories of my childhood Visit more and more Each day, As ghosts of past relatives Cast their shadows,

Red and gold leaves Falling, Sing to me Of the season of change, Before the snow,

The buck in the garden Chewing up hard earned Labor, His antlers raise, His ears perk up, as

I remember your smile, your laugh,… you gave so freely. It’s hard that you are gone. I sigh and walk along the bay.

When I first heard “The Blackbird,” In the middle Of night, I was just thirteen.

The lines in my hand, Were read once, By a gypsy, who Predicated a long life... But with many interruptions.

Walking on the beach of long ago, the constant roll of the gulf, it’s sound, like a lullaby.

On a walk this morning, the rocky cliffs that reach the blue-green sea, talk of strength today.