Tag Archives: Flowers

Afterlife


Sometimes, when the winds are blowing through the pines, the full moon lights up the hills with its spotlight glow, I hear the owl calling from the trees, and know someday he’ll be calling my name, and I’ll have no … Continue reading

Posted in America, Beauty, Death and Dying, Ethics, Family, Hope, Poetry, Thoughts & Musings, Time | Tagged , | 2 Comments