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

Every hour we are someone Different, Every day something new Learned, Death is just another

Life is like a dream A star studded sky A blink of an eye Oh, how life slips by. Life is like a song

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

One year since I traveled to paradise. One year since I laughed and danced with friends. One year since I watched

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

Life is a day dream So they say, With every beat Of my heart, The gate to love

Holy Holy Morning glory Blooming in a haze Of purple light. Holy Holy

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

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

There is my shadow, A dark outline of this body And yet, it also holds, The hidden imperfections Of my existence.

White heron skidding the blue, grey water, of the bay. How free and easy you make it look,

Ambition seems overrated at this time of life, effort seems more like strife. In my youth I was motivated by a hungry desire

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

As I enter my sixty-third year, Fall leaves grace the path I love, With hues of red, Gold and orange.