each point a memory of light,
a time before, and now.
now when time stretches
into long April afternoons
filled in by dappled shadow
light filtered by time.
stars come out across the garden
each with its own name
passing into dusks shade
as lullabies and bedtime stories.
we sleep like children, safe
under night skies.
The Course of Our Seasons 
Dear Kathleen, Always good to see and read your posts and poems. Last week, I reread your first book and most recent book about your home there. Thank you.
Well, Ellen! Thank you for sharing that with me. It means so much.
happy Spring, my dear friend