in from the April rain,
outside my dining room window,
looking onto the front porch.
It's been a strange winter and early spring,
now the winds of March, have come to April.
Many, of the flowers of May, have shown their colors and withered.
The flowering tree's have lost their bloom.
The fragrance of spring is no longer filtering through the air.
Rain's that should have come for spring planting have arrived late, farmers losing already planted crops.
Roses planted at fences to keep predators at bay.
Anything to keep the family and homestead safe.
Garden planting has begun.
Tomatoes, onions, potatoes, green peppers,
along with favorite turnips.
The days seem to pass without notice,
as if, drifting away with time, not much time.
God, has allowed me, the pleasures of these things, in what is left,
as time on this earth.
I stay steady at a craft, as to, not grow old to quickly,
some days, I forget.
I do not know, if I forget, due to the fact that I have been reminded,
much,
I do not know everything and lost my willingness to remember
or
if time is beginning to take it's toll
and what,
I once knew is so far behind me,
I choose not to remember.
I have learned to not keep score, when you do,
you lose the effort to remember.
I forget.
I have lost myself?
It is not tragic,
I do not wish to live another life.
The continued thought of being underminded,
kept in a place, that, you forget,
other's relish with delight,
you have come to this place.
I forget.
`til next time
...
