Lost Mate

She sits alone in the nest,

Scanning the sky,

With a plaintive cry.

 

She hasn’t repaired her nest.

She sits motionless, still,

Not using her skill.

 

Quietly with a heart needing repair,

Am I, scanning the sky,

Wondering “why?”

 

I understand her loneliness and grief.

Letting time slip by,

The osprey and I.

 

At least, she can fly.

Dream or Vision

I fell asleep one afternoon,

Was it a dream or vision?

A tunnel gray and long,

Raised an intriguing decision.

 

Should I enter quickly?

Carefully tiptoe inside?

Or race ahead recklessly,

Caution thrown aside?

 

The light at the end

Was not white, as expected.

A warm yellow glow

Towards me was directed.

 

Wispy cloud-like beings

Drifted across the light,

Not wraiths, but angels,

A tantalizing sight.

 

But as I stood and pondered,

“Has my time come?”

The tunnel walls collapsed.

And the dream was gone.

 

I woke up disappointed.

“I am still here,” I thought.

Perhaps, the next time will bring,

The heavenly peace I’ve sought.

Dining at the Table

 

 

Dining at the Table

 

We sat at a table on our first date.

It was in a restaurant.

I don’t remember what we ate,

But the conversation was appetizing.

 

For decades we sat at a dinner table,

Sharing the important and the trivial,

Talking through the chatter of children,

Nourished by both food and conversation.

 

We sat at a table one Saturday evening,

Not knowing it was the last time.

Later, I could not remember what we ate.

Only the freshly baked blueberry muffins.

 

Now I sit at a table with one placemat,

Picking at tasteless morsels,

While devouring rich memories,

Gourmet leftovers reheated.