So Fresh

summer garden joys:
second of many salads
grown and cut by me

A Tree Grows in Denver

family tradition:
plant trees for graduates
and watch how they grow

my mother's tree stands
at my great-aunt's former home
taller than us all

my sister's tree shades
disappearing middle-class 
(our childhood home)

and my tree shocks me
evading the ash borer
with grandiose grace

thank you for the “no.”
as phallic as this lupine
(allium ignored)

i will learn from this
(things i tell myself at night)
and grow a sagebrush

it will bloom purple
(you can’t see my true color)
and you can’t taste it

yet, here it blossoms
as beautiful as the home 
you constantly loathe

i know. i know. i…
you don’t see what i see. stop.
but god. how it hurts.

these rare teen moments
everyone together; joy
minus jobs, school, stress

summer days beckon
drinks on rooftop patios
(mocktails for the kids)

the cold creek calls us
with shade, icy refreshment
from the sun’s harsh heat

and these cousins bond
under summer vacation 
(our home is their heart)

sunset’s golden light
shines brighter in the mountains 
with my perfect pup

an eight-mile walk
through Colorado’s beauty
even before blooms

the mountains call us
with their peak views, quaking aspens
(listen for the call)

i’ve tried hard for grins
as hard as they are to earn
(teen reality)

how pretty and sweet
grins as wide as Mile High
(but not for me, though)