The free bird thinks of another breeze
an the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.
His appetite is as voracious as ever, and he fills the couch with just as much comfort while watching the History channel for endless hours! Trees were cut down, wood chopped, dogs walked, cooking at home, dining out, trip to New York, friends met, apple orchards visited and now he is gone again and our hearts well with love and affection and spill out reaching toward the Western trail.
Even in that black pool, there are signs of Autumn.
A visit to Arthur Avenue for lunch and who could resist taking a box of cannoli home? Not us! Carpaccio and cannoli!
We give them wings and off they fly, but why do we want to tip toe behind, keeping them in our sphere?
We really must make plans to visit dear son in Santa Fe soon, because as he left, the air left the room…. we want to catch up with that free bird once he lands back under his own New Mexico sky.