Winter 2024
Mr. R. would talk about his deceased brother, he dreamed about him frequently; also of an eagle
The misty, night rain, Soaking bare trees, Bringing nourishment. I stand at the window, A steady beat echoes
Misty fog floating through bare trees. Cold waves of wind coarse through the woods whistling as they go
On a walk, many Brown-Eye Susan line the border, before the woods. Rain clouds move closer as if to give a hug, while
Not a word heard As the river flows Over rock, around Banks that lie Waiting for visitors.
Standing at a crossroad Between this life And the next, Heart in hand I knock on that
Life is a day dream So they say, With every beat Of my heart, The gate to love
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,
Driving down the road, The song, “Let It Be” Came on the radio. Taking me back to Various scenarios.
Easing down the gravel road, yellow leaves spiral across, like a welcome
Driving through the small towns of America, children of all colors playing in the streets, some with tattered clothes
Rolling painted deserts of the west. Shrub bushes dot sloping hillsides. Relentless sun heats up
Harsh reality smacks like a slap of cold wind. Sometimes I’m a tough sailor, at the helm,
You may not know what you’ll do next: Hit the open road With your thumb stuck out. Give up all you own