the passage of time

a walden kind of pond

sits nestled in the trees

the dock sits empty

a kayak is idle by the shore

the paths are narrowing

the rose of sharon

in full bloom

the spruce so tall

the dogwoods with berries

the leaves almost red

the world is changing hues

the lives who’ve grown old here

their secrets

sway in the pines

once all was new

now weather worn

the wind

the rain

the love

the pain

a line here

a line there

sprinkles of slightly gray hair

love is felt everywhere

they are a part of the landscape

leaving footpaths through the trees

shadows on the road

the goldenrod blooms happenstance

at dusk wildlife takes a chance

comes out of hiding

deer graze in the open fields

the red barn sits

at the top of the hill

the house not too far away

with flowers in the yard

the passing of time

a farm in the trees

where our bodies grow old

yet we never cease to be

the colors of our lives

a certainty

that is truly meant to be

we live in harmony

with nature

as it should be

and find a peace

that others never feel or see


a morning glory waits for me

a walden kind of pond

nestled under tall trees

a sanctuary

where i blur into the landscape

of all that might have been

what the greeks coin meraki




where time passes

yet i can always

look behind

look ahead

and always find

who i am

forever me

— patty

If life steers you into a dead end road, and you are trying to find your way, skip the GPS, take the road with no traffic. Founder studiO, early morning poet.