
scent of fresh baked bread
flocks flying below the clouds
winter solstice’s here

scent of fresh baked bread
flocks flying below the clouds
winter solstice’s here

with a little help
dead leaves taking flight again
oddly comforting

new roads I travel
all center on same compass
the one that I love
a model for all
a son does his father’s will
heaven takes delight
waking too early
trying to go back to sleep
Saturday morning