javelina hike
to a cactus-filled Thumb Butte
to start the morning
a Whiskey Row lunch
Watson Lake under blue skies
for the afternoon
my daughter’s new friends
soon to be her new roommates:
a perfect evening
Morning, Noon, and Night in Prescott
Month: March 2023
Bucket List Day
Monument Valley:
the perfect sunrise rest stop
to light our faces
snow at Grand Canyon:
surprise bucket list side trip
to catch her snowfall
all three together:
it feels like a bucket list
to let them g(r)o(w)
Coronadas
a new Corona
three years after quarantine
back to wilderness
girls’ trip for spring break
to collect our Subaru
and meet our sister
miracle arches
connect the past and future
with hope for this life
Hold Up the Sky
your bucket list waits
for a ‘delicate’ sunset,
a breathtaking arch
your children await
at the top of a boulder
with the perfect view
a lifetime awaits
at the end of vacation
yet memories last
More-ab
Seafood Spice
Snowset
searching for sunsets
in the midst of March madness
snow madness, that is
Shoot Photos
The (Neverending) Day After
Scene Three from a Marriage (Love Yolk)
Here I am at home,
and he tells me not to take a pic,
that “it’s only an egg”
though a moment ago he said,
“we better move her or she’ll overcook”
and like precious cargo
he slides her onto the plate
still in his uniform
at the end of a long day.
a long day for a teacher–
for a human–
he sent me a text three-quarters into third period,
almost lunch.
“Two staff members shot at East High.”
three miles from my school
three million bullets into my heart
three months into 2023.
it’s only an egg.
it’s only a threat.
it’s only a gun.
so carefully, he cooks the sausage
(in a separate pan ’cause I won’t eat it)
Scene Three from a Marriage.
the marriage he allows me
where I can take this pic against protests
and write a poem that’s not a haiku
and wrap my arms in the love
that the boy with the gun didn’t have.
and only you,
you standing there tomorrow morning with me,
in front of my Newcomers,
in front of this American high school,
can feel that love bleeding through
through
through–
the love for that burst yolk,
that perfect yellow yolk–
the love the boy with the gun didn’t have.
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