Dead Ends

 

the dance

 

Christmas

lost in painting,

yet Christmas is here,

struggling to find meaning,

a way out,

trapped in the chaos,

Christmas must be more than a feeling,

a time of good will,

still locked in a canvas,

afraid I will miss Christmas,

and its significance this year.

 

Snowy day

snow on the hills.

making creation seem so new,

yet cattle to feed,

and ice to break,

on this chilly December day.

 

sunset

sunset on a dry winter day,

no rainfall or snow for months,

the ground dusty and gray,

hopefully snow or rain,

a Christmas present,

on a cold December day.

 

Thankful

thankful for living my life on my terms,

in a place of space and sky,

free and clear from other lives,

forcing themselves on me,

a place where solitude respected,

and people truly care enough to leave one alone,

as we struggle together through this journey,

towards a final end.

 

thankful for having lived my life on my terms

Relics

relics of yesterday's dream,

a life of independence,

lived out on the land,

now a grave mark,

for a society that once was,

but is no more.