always find water.
brings relief to a hot hike
or just a hot day.





always find water.
brings relief to a hot hike
or just a hot day.





i will hike alone
well my puppy comes, of course
we seek alpine lakes

yet i must admit
this elevation gain kills
forty-something legs

but when the lake shines
on my ever-happy pup
it is so worth it


he didn’t want to
(more rejection in my life)
still, he packed his bag

he doesn’t smile
it’s hard to tell what he wants
but it could be worse

and here’s our sunset
framed by glorious aspens,
soft breezes of love

garden donations:
(nice to have gardening friends
who offer seeds, plants)

endless tabs open
Google Meets tries to cheer us
but we’re stuck on screens

remote learning sucks
except with a cat or mat
how we love our home


why yes, i bake things
(zucchini things in summer)
feels like Hell’s Kitchen

my oven burned me
burned us all with its heat spread
well, not anymore

that’s right, baby:
a 9×13 glass dish,
two 8-inch cake pans

this Breville will hold
a 12-inch cast iron pan
without burning us

worth every penny
(it’s not even Christmas yet)
boy am i ready
condolences trap:
how could i possibly give
when i don’t get it?
sometimes i think: Hell.
twenty days of solid heat.
(Denver in summer)

and then i recall
our glorious altitude
and misty mornings

i will swim for views
only captured here at home
(Denver forever)

what’s more beautiful—
this red, water-begging dawn
or my daughter’s grin?


each touched by showers
so desperate to soothe our souls
from this hellfire
