growing old
i have no worries
what language
will we speak
we will
understand still
Tag: Poetry
the sun
it illuminates
the telephone wires
then it sets
icy rain
upon the skylight
in early dawn
an owl calls
the box spilled
it was all there
our life
it is only snow
yes
it will melt
maybe even water the seedlings
but may the rain will do that
instead
i painted the wall
in small sections
here and there
the paint has faded
seamless
no memories
squirrels have found the feeder
the cardinals stopped coming
quiet here at night
always a wonder
how or why
and
why or how
A constant wind
no more nap
stillness
lie without
moving
snow
brings silence
everything
just a whisper
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