The windmills of my mind..
Grandfather told me often,
life move quickly,
make the good day last longer and forget the bad days.
Now old age is upon me,
the windmills of my mind,
so many things,
are twisting and dancing in my head.
They are like,
stories of another person life.
I played soldier, I played saint and I played sinner.
When payment is due. Where do I belong?
Now I wonder,
what are we?
Maybe we are,
just wildflowers,
dancing with the wind for a season,
to be forgotten when the days of Fall appear.
I do follow my Grandfather advice, make the good days last forever.
Dancing Coyote