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

It is what it is Despite my wishes for it, Otherwise. You are who you are Despite my expectations,

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

Summer is near it’s end, I regret not visiting my childhood home, near the gulf, where the sunset

Inspiration is in the falling of rain, the soft coo of birds in late afternoon, the sinking of the

Thoughts flicker like twinkling lights, ride them across the sky. Embrace your dream,

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

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

Photos are all I have At times, Of smiling familiar faces, My family spread out. I would travel often

Silver sliver of the moon With the bright star of Venus Trailing behind. Moonbeams casting light On the waves,

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

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

Looking at my journal’s Blank page While geese fly by and honk A greeting. The red cardinals

On the brink of leaving, To go beyond These borders And say good-bye, To all you know,

The flesh withers as we age But our inner spirit Remains the same. And when the body dies The spirit breaks free