In the mist of time…


In the mist of time…

(April poetry twenty-one.)

I walk slower and I talk less. The sun will rise again and I will count the stars again. I know now. In the mist of time. We will make mistakes and we will regret many things. We will wish we visit the family more often and we were kinder.

Life is like, the free wind. Touch our skin and we cannot slow her down. The echoes of old voices, we will miss and our children will become men and women. We cannot stop time.

We will know too many goodbyes and not enough hellos. One day, on the narrow road, the lonely path. I will tell the forest, the flowing river. Almost time for me to join the kind people who taught me how to live. Thank you for the sunny days, good friends and sweet women.

Today with five grandchildren at my feet. I tell the morning sun. One more day my friend. I ain’t done yet.

Coyote