she smiled

and suddenly the summer

was alive

with colors

I had never known

cool air

settles upon my corner
of the world-

listening to the sigh

of twilight...

God must be

a poet-

I see His verse

in the reflection of

mountains on shining water...

across her forehead,

wisp of blonde hair flies

away in the breeze-

if only she could stay small,

if only...

brush strokes across

the sunset sky-majesty

in pastels

quite familiar,

that luminescent smile
above my rooftop-

how does this ancient one
make my world new again?

grandaughter,

dandelion in hand,

traces his name

with her finger on the stone-

her brown eyes tell his story...