If I could go back in time I would fix my wrongs, I would sing new songs And mend all hate And open the gate

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

In the rustle of leaves the wind plays a tune, the change of season is on the horizon. It asks permission

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

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

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

Squirrels with bushy orange tails leap about the deck. Crickets hum, confused that it’s not dark yet. The caw of a blue jay

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

My spirit communes with the four directions: To the north are in-laws, our aging mother, her last

Soft gray clouds pass slowly by, Soon they will release a gift of r… Trees are shedding their leaves As they turn red, orange and yello… Signaling the squirrels to collect…

Last night I dreamt that I floated above the clouds, above the earth and my heart

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

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

First snow of the season Came down light and gay, With it’s bright white, Reflecting, Off slow moving clouds

The dance of fear, Of not being enough, Stops and starts. The unknown, an Uncharted sea,