Brown hawk with spotted tail, soaring on the wind, balancing like a sail. Your piercing cry

Yellow finches Line the bird feeder Against Spring’ s canopy Of green and purple tapestry. Back and forth they go

What is truth? It’s a changing sky, One day clear, The next, cloudy, Holding the blue and grey,

Old friends walking on the beach, the waves bring in, memories, of carefree days;

I lay still While my loved one, Sleeps. His warm hand In my hand,

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

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

If I had all the time In the world To write, What would I say? What would be the most

Silver sliver of the moon With the bright star of Venus Trailing behind. Moonbeams casting light On the waves,

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

Time passing by now In a blink of the eye, In the clap of a hand, In the chirp of a bird, In a flash of light

What if, The simple things In life, were the Most important Events.

Ambition seems overrated at this time of life, effort seems more like strife. In my youth I was motivated by a hungry desire

Misty fog floating through bare trees. Cold waves of wind coarse through the woods whistling as they go