Sweeny and I first became room mates, father and son, or my little man about 7 months after my wife pass on. He became my reason for living and my inspiration to go on. 11 years later, Vera, Spirit (his brother) and I are heart broken, but also are so very thankful for the time we had with the Sween. We miss you dearly baby boy.
somebody dies, a cloud turns into
an angel, and flies up to tell God
to put another flower on a pillow.
A bird gives the message back to
the world, and sings
a silent prayer
that makes the
rain cry. People dis-
appear, but they never really go away.
The spirits up there
put the sun to
bed, wake up grass, and spin the
in dizzy circles. Sometimes you
see them dancing in a cloud during
day-time, when they're supposed
to be sleeping. They
paint the rain-
bows and also
the sunsets and make
waves splash and tug at the tide.
toss shooting stars and listen to
wishes. And when they sing wind-
songs, they whisper to us, don't
miss me too much.
The view is nice
and I'm doing just fine.