Driving through the small towns of America, children of all colors playing in the streets, some with tattered clothes

Hello Sunrise, with your red ball of fire, peeking over the horizon, leaving the clouds pink,

Birds flying here and there, landing on branches to chirp and bare, their heart. A private club among the trees with their own private code.

At that magical time When the yellow moon Sets, And the pink mist Of dawn,

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

Pale blue moon Of August, Peeking behind The clouds, Luminous,

Life is not fair at times... But of course things Change quickly down the line, We are born into a No guarantee world.

Brown hawk with spotted tail, soaring on the wind, balancing like a sail. Your piercing cry

As we shared stories, The warm hum of voices heard, A cup of love spilled.

An owl hoots on this cool, crisp Spring night. A sound that’s distant yet echos

Remember the night we took your mother’s car and drove over the skyway bridge? The moon was a bright light to show the way.

On this New Year’s Eve Direction lost Drifting like blowing snow To and fro. A freeze comes

It’s that time of year again. The sound of honking geese fills the air, as they pass in alignment, to the Deep South.

What if, The simple things In life, were the Most important Events.

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