Pretend there is no tomorrow becau… there might not be. Live like there is only this momen… that is the truth. Nothing is solid but whispery,

Autumn wind Brings scattered leaves, Splattered, With red and gold. Autumn wind

Just a small part of me wants strife to go away, to return to a kinder time. Am I just losing courage? Life is draining me,

Not a word heard As the river flows Over rock, around Banks that lie Waiting for visitors.

The hummingbirds are buzzing As well as the bees. The Orioles land gingerly On top of the feeder. Cautiously they move down

Harsh reality smacks like a slap of cold wind. Sometimes I’m a tough sailor, at the helm,

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

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.

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

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

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

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.

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

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

Twilight slides in quietly as birds fly to warm nests. Pink hues of evening reflect in the clouds. Soon the moon