The Horse Runs Hidden Behind the Fence

The horse runs hidden behind the fence,
and he pounds down the field,
but not every day.
I know he's there, but I have not seen him.

Moon light floods the yard,
and I drop bread under the tree for the birds.
Not every day
do I see them feast, but I know they come.

My brother stops by the shop one day
to bring me oranges and talk awhile,
but not every day
and not any more.
I know he's here, but I no longer see him.

January 26, 2013

I miss you, David. Few men as good as you have walked this earth. I love you forever.
Your baby sister.

Happy New Year

It's strange sitting at home on a Tuesday afternoon. We'll reopen tomorrow. Vacation is over. Darren and I went to Colonial Williamsburg for a few days after Christmas. It was  beautiful, but cold. I am always fascinated by our history. It's good to go back to places that reteach us the stories we knew but have forgotten or ones we were  never taught. We may be hanging on a cliff, but we've come incredibly far as a nation. The problems we imagine we have are sometimes legitimate concerns, but often not. 

Today, Colonial Williamsburg looks like this:

It's a beautiful first day of the year. The doors are opened, and the sun is shining through the front blinds softly slanted. The house is clean and Christmas is put away for another year. Darren is sick with a chest cold and fever. I hope he recovers quickly. I wish us all an excellent new year. We survived the end of the Mayan calender, horrific storms and senseless murders. We've seen the worst bring out the best. We've made much progress as seen manifest on many fronts. My hope for this new year is that the greatest progress for us all is manifested in an abundance of love for one another. Happy new year.

Peace. Love, Linda

The sun setting on 2012.