Night is imbued with the wonders of Nature: The sky becomes a canopy of moon and stars; there is solitude in places where tranquility reigns supreme; the rustle of leaves, stirring the senses, rousing the curiosity of the poet; sounds that we do not seem to hear in broad daylight.

A controversial love composition titled from the one I implicate and dedicate. A rarely possible love story to happen at this very moment of time…

Best experiences in the world.

And soon, sooner than we would like, she fades, and robins worry.

As we keep aging, life’s terrain turns sparse, while sceneries that were once eye-catching, begin changing gradually. But we must continue to be up and doing whatever there is left to do, as we look ahead.

About counting your ranges.

This poem is dedicated to a dear friend of mine who passed away. He loved his spirit eagle brother.

A cowhand on the range.