Decades, perhaps even centuries Benjamin thinks at least a thousand yearsYour life spanAnd then all of it gone in an hour
Every morning for months You were there, as I walked the dogA fleeting, quick glimpseYour brown and grey touchesMoving into view and out again
I’m trying to learn to meditate.To stop the constant fussing in my head.The what-ifs,the can-you-evens,the why, why, whys,and the…
Did you know April is National Poetry Month?