Reminds me of music
in a calm autumn morning.
The changing winds always
let me hear last words.
I’m still trying to know
if a hoot owl could show
me our world not far apart
our woods and forest the same.
There is a soft interlude with love
the changing seasons do breathe
an air of familiarity, a blessing
to have known this heart could feel love.
I’m still propping open doors
still wondering always about yours.