Good Choices


Sky’s put on grey,
doesn’t mean I have to...
I can choose to grab
onto that sunbeam
that’s tryin’ to burn
through the horizon
and pull up
those fallen raindrops
that puddle the patio.

But then,
Fern,
she’s captured and clung
to living water
from the heavens,
drunk with the spirit of them,
even before nine a.m.

~~~~~~~

Life, death, companions
grasp eternity's choices
straightaway, Good Friend

©May 23, 2004