Winter 2024
The buck in the garden Chewing up hard earned Labor, His antlers raise, His ears perk up, as
Some days you’re in bliss, Some days you’re in pain. Some days you’re up in the clouds, Some days you’re down in the flame… Some days you get what you want
My spirit communes with the four directions: To the north are in-laws, our aging mother, her last
One lit candle burns brightly As I make a wish upon it’s Golden aura, that Humankind May learn to caress the earth As the wind does a field of flower…
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
As we shared stories, The warm hum of voices heard, A cup of love spilled.
I lay still While my loved one, Sleeps. His warm hand In my hand,
Pale blue moon Of August, Peeking behind The clouds, Luminous,
The many places I have been And countless faces I have seen, The many tales to be told, Into the universe, they unfold. It’s all a passing show,
On the brink of leaving, To go beyond These borders And say good-bye, To all you know,
Ambition seems overrated at this time of life, effort seems more like strife. In my youth I was motivated by a hungry desire
On a walk, many Brown-Eye Susan line the border, before the woods. Rain clouds move closer as if to give a hug, while
On a walk this morning, the rocky cliffs that reach the blue-green sea, talk of strength today.
Rolling painted deserts of the west. Shrub bushes dot sloping hillsides. Relentless sun heats up
On this New Year’s Eve Direction lost Drifting like blowing snow To and fro. A freeze comes