While I travel down life’s road Country winds call me home. Running barefoot through a sea of grass I would not know what must come to pass.

I must leave the country side, I must find my path To push myself forward To make my own footpath

Country winds call me home While it can be maintained For they do not know my love And they do not know my pain.

-Ron Chapel...

I found her before I knew Friendship, laughter, trust bloomed Filling the empty space between I dare not ask the question, What is the truth I feel?

I denied, reflecting in silent intensity Easy it was at first, in the quiet Stillness of the night, my heart and mind met Reminding, to ask it. Ask the question.

What do you feel? In scarce reality my heart broke through In the quiet of the night ...

November 18, 1991 I knew better. That’s what I keep telling myself, even now my hand shakes and my mind is filled with pain. I didn’t wait long enough to check on a buck I’ve been hunting for all week. In my excitement, my eagerness, I didn’t wait long enough and now I know, I am dying.

November 19, 1991 Through all my years of experience, I had always given the right amount of time. The deer, hu...

It was just a rock. Well, then again calling it just a rock is a bit of an understatement. I suppose technically it’s a bolder, though how large it truly is still remains unknown. Dark grey in color, rather unremarkable except it existed on top of the hill. The rock, round and large enough to fit our friend group was the meeting place, base, spaceship and a slue of many other things.

Though I tho...

As winters cold and gray fades Spring green buds and flourish What once was hollow and barren Comes to life with warm breath

The winds of spring carry her name I doubt, deny and then calm understanding The winds of spring carry her name Warm cheeks, beating heart, spring buds bloom.

Spring green life flourish and strong Even after the winds have ceased Understanding and accepting Into summer...

Gone and gone again she lays still in peaceful sleep. Through layers of soft earth to a single large stone to mark her presence in a world that has forgotten.

In youth, in dreadful imagination, I ask myself how things would be without her.

In present day, in present mind that answer lies harshly revealed. Death did not come quick and sudden as it does to many. Death did not run, or jog or walke...