Returning Home


graveled roads traveled through the ice and snow,
searching for the warmth only a family can provide,
and maybe the memories of the days gone by,
when the awakening on winter mornings
was shared with brothers in a room crowded with beds.





Dream Vacation


she dreams of Italy,
cathedrals and canals,
Rome and Venice,
wine and sunlit days,
I dream of open dusty places,
void of the presence of man,
no ancient monuments,
or echoing voices,
no churches or canals,
only hills of grass,
endless,
alone in time and space,
and present in the moment at hand.





Sundown


the day's edge between dark and light,
a moment mystical and elusive,
the eyes and mind easily deceived,
by a glimpse of the eternal,
when nothing seems real,
and everything is temporary and imperfect.





Clouds


clouds drift across the sky,
captive to destiny,
and the prevailing winds,
raining down on parades,
both near and far,
a consequence of luck,
and the prevailing winds,
fate, an ill tempered beast.





The Rule of Law


borders,
lines artificial and fake,
existing on paper,
the defining feature of nations,
and states,
law and order,
created and maintained by borders,
artificial and fake,
changing with each new election,
citizens and non-citizens,
with equal rights,
vote about borders and laws,
artificial and fake.





Tragic


a plane shot down from the sky,
fingers point,
accessing blame,
pain intense in unexpected death,
the world mourns,
within families,
hugs and kisses,
thankful,
yet war remains on the doorstep.





Gone


when I am gone,
fire flies are what I will miss,
or the easy lope of a favorite horse,
ice cold beer in frosty mugs,
a cool breeze on a summer night,
watching kids sleep,
safe and warm,
and from my wife,
a morning kiss,
gentle and sweet,
everlasting,
even after I am gone.