On a walk, many Brown-Eye Susan line the border, before the woods. Rain clouds move closer as if to give a hug, while

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,

Misty fog floating through bare trees. Cold waves of wind coarse through the woods whistling as they go

Unable to be all things For all people, Perhaps at one time, I tried. Those days are

The birds flock to the bird feeder, some with black, capped heads and others with

As I age this last quarter of my life, I am fading into the background. As I let go of roles,

This is the America I know: A sea of white, black, red, yellow And brown faces, Strong minds and voices Raised to the sun,

Today, I wish the pain to go, the fatigue that I fight so. This process of aging is unkind and yet, the law of nature is a fast lane of change.

This evening the blank, white page is open. My nerves are on edge, while a storm forms on the horizon.

Oh billionaires! How you have lost your soul, lost the goal and kneel down

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

The white snow, thin Like sand, over The fields, blowing Across the road. My car rambles

Red, yellow and orange leaves Fall quickly now And create a tapestry of color That fill my mind With joy.

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

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