I watch the cottonwood
seeds
gather on the
wildflowers and
the weeds.
The trail looks a gentle
snowfall
  of dust,
Like the back corner
of grandmother's attic...
Blanketed in mystery
and
  well worn with
                   the years.
White sand and flakes of
pyrite
  glitter on the
  water's edge,
Dancing
with the rythym of the  
  waves...
A hummingbird
chases a dragonfly
into a tangerine sunset.
A hawk circles the road looking
for a wayward mouse.
I cry a silent prayer.
And can
   only
think of you,
My Angel.
And
    the
       wind
            cries
                 too...
Singing her
sorrowful song
Only for you,
My Angel,
Only for you...