Familiar and Treasured

I.
Low howl of wind being
Met by big trucks
Headed south and hell
Bent for leather.
Not a hundred yards from here.

II.
The sunlight reaching through the
Treeline before setting, spotlighting
Leaves as they let go, gently
Turning a fandango with the wind.

III.

Extinguished light of my good intentions
Left behind and turning to stone.
The names of the lost I whisper as
The counting clock makes its time
Ticking loudly when I am alone.

IV.

Coveted: the laughter of my father and mother,
The great and tender heart of my sister.
The spark of greatness my son keeps
Hidden, my wife, life’s sweet tinder.
The blaze
raging now in the forest where I’ve
Hidden her.

V.

The days when the
Smile reaches my eyes as
They sweep over and behold
the familiar and
Treasured kept near to the heart
Sacred like silver and gold.

 ♾sunontiepost 2016