A day in march

The days light

Comes creeping through my window

Eagles soaring

above these old dirt fields

Reminiscing in my mind

Like old movie reels

I'm out enjoying a cuppa something

at the round log table

made by these very hands

As I do what I can

When I am able

Sat under the ole apple tree beside me

With a magpie sat above

Days like these

Are truly made

Outta love

These small birds gather

And sing a tune

As though sang just for me

Up there, they hide in the tree