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

Perhaps it is the mind separating things into this and that. Perhaps it is the mind with it’s preferences

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

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

To open and risk hurt... Or stay closed but Never really live. Pain can reveal... A connection to

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

Pink hues from the west Filter through Snow covered boughs Leaving, The evening light

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

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

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

Sitting on the lake shore, Which made my heart soar, The water rippled at times, Swirled into beautiful lines, Clouds reflected in it’s mirror,

Remember goodness in the fire of e… Remember joy in the center of sorr… Remember love in the flood of hate… Remember courage in the pit of fea… It’s never too late.

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

Rolling painted deserts of the west. Shrub bushes dot sloping hillsides. Relentless sun heats up

Itchy eyes scaly feet achy joints and bad teeth hair so fine