can this be
you and me?
so
amazing
unique
special
wonderful
intelligent
beautiful
can this be
you and me?
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
Norma
Normas had an unforgetable smile. It was like a burst of sunshine. You never failed to see it when you saw her. The years we knew each other when John and Dean were working together house some of my best memories. John and I fishing with them at Reelfoot lake, canoeing a river somewhere or just at the lake with our families. I remember asking Norma if she would go with me to the hospital for the birth of our first child. She said she would. Things did not go well. Her expertize started the baby breathing and she gently placed him in a rock-a-bed incubator. That baby is now 47 and a doctor.
She gave those who knew her more than they could ever give back. Even as she finished her life she did all she could to make those about her comfortable. She always said things are fine when we knew they weren't. Her smile was always there. She was always involved with her family. Dean and Amy and Beth were the joys of her life. Her girls smiles found some of their mothers. Their lives reflect a mothers love and devotion.
Norma had courage and grit.
She was special.
She will be missed.
She gave those who knew her more than they could ever give back. Even as she finished her life she did all she could to make those about her comfortable. She always said things are fine when we knew they weren't. Her smile was always there. She was always involved with her family. Dean and Amy and Beth were the joys of her life. Her girls smiles found some of their mothers. Their lives reflect a mothers love and devotion.
Norma had courage and grit.
She was special.
She will be missed.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Don't Trust the Wind
october orange
blush of day
pumpkin morning
daily chores
north wind
unsure buck
moving closer
corn again
yellow swirls
held in the wind
finally settling on
dry dusty ground
hungers need
wind covering scent
like an invisable cape
cautiously he comes
to the promise
so often waiting
in the silence
its hunting season
don't trust the wind
blush of day
pumpkin morning
daily chores
north wind
unsure buck
moving closer
corn again
yellow swirls
held in the wind
finally settling on
dry dusty ground
hungers need
wind covering scent
like an invisable cape
cautiously he comes
to the promise
so often waiting
in the silence
its hunting season
don't trust the wind
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