On A Mountain in Tennessee
The water of the Little Pigeon River
is rushing and tumbling over itself.
Whipping itself into a frothy foam,
in its’ haste to reach the foothills
where it can join the dogwoods and daffodils
in welcoming a new spring.

And I am here to see it!!!!!




Start of a New Day



The sound of a single leaf
As it answers the breeze,

The footfall of a forest creature
Tentatively approaching from the woods,

The glint of the sun
As it slips through the trees,

The shine of the morning dew
Brighter than the whitest diamond,

These, the sights and sounds
Of our home this week,

More luxurious than a suite
At the Four Seasons.