Happy
outside the old farmhouse
a white glow behind me.

Summer winds pat my forehead cool,
winds whose higher cousins cause

When I feel the east breeze caress my hair

watch the red sun sink quietly low

smell the soft flower of spring in the air

Being called home

I lay in this bed, so much going through my head.

I see my loved ones who have gone before me, I must choose

Home is Beyond the Horizon.

A dusty road gives lessons of perspective

Vanishing in the distance to a point

A lazy propeller makes a droning buzz

A grumble