Bill Galvin Poems

Upon reaching Timberline,
We best discern change;
On… up… with unbounded range.
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I like to drive from northern cold
In late winter or the early spring,
Down to warmer southern climes,
Where trees are already blossoming.
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Life be dull or clear
Souls smile and hearts laugh when first
Daffodils appear.
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I wish you were here
Not that things aren't going well
You'd make it better
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Dear voice from the blue
Friends touching through the airwaves
Lighting up the room
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It is what it is…
The time fabric unwoven…
Or, never the weave.
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This lot has not changed since I last walked it;
It certainly hasn’t moved any in ten years;
But the trees have sure gotten bigger and thicker.
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Yeah, I guess, after all I’ve been through,
It may not be surprising what I may do.

Been singing out loud to the tunes I like,
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This street is alive…
Life streams thru this quaint Maryland harbor town,
Where traffic is purposefully slowed
To allow the town to breathe, and remain refreshed.
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I’m up here on this mountain;
I’m up where I should be.
When up here on this mountain,
There’s lots of things to see.
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