Growing old

Taste of sleep or tears
flying or falling I can't tell
after all these years

From here

Geese gather, crows squawk.
The blue lake reflects the hawk.
You fly away. I walk.

up the hill

pianissimo
breath see-saws, silent, sighing
listen like a cat

Spring

Frosty grass a geode,
icy blades snapped where I strode,
light the sun erodes

Many rivers

again rain drops and lands

my breath condenses in clouds

rising, falling again

I'm not a McDLT

sun warms and blinds me

sweat on my ear freezes my feet

the moon lifts the sea