Zoom meetings drain me
but how sweet these tomatoes
and basil, with love

Zoom meetings drain me
but how sweet these tomatoes
and basil, with love

this mountain’s too steep
but i know he won’t turn back
he’d never turn back


twenty-two years in
we’ve climbed many a mountain
and have won each view


you can’t get this far
without climbing some mountains
oh, but the aspens.


we’re home now. screen time.
i want to keep the rainbow.
the perfect sunset pic.


the lake moon rising.
the soothing sound of tent rain.
just being. outside.



these summer rainstorms
bring breezy joy to hot days
(save us from the drought)
my former student
once a refugee herself
now teaches me hope

making me these masks
so i can mouth English words
as when i taught her
of little promise
this underdeveloped root
(thought i’d just get blooms)


but underground joy
arrives when you keep digging
to find the rainbow



school online again
i hate how we all suffer
with no leadership
a hike can’t save us.
the heat seems to want us dead.
but the masks? yes. yes.

all the Boulderites.
they get it. even on trails.
why is it so hard?

you could have this view.
away from the pandemic.
if you’d just listen.

zucchinis have popped
my three-year-old magnet proves
that i have foresight




(go where your heart calls,
where those images beckon.
stand in waterfalls)
the river’s icy
the current is too strong, son
but no one stops us

i can never look
without wanting to dive in
to fully swim. live.

they get this from me.
these kids who are not my kids.
these kids who are mine.


we swim for ice cream.
for these fleeting memories.
for their childhoods.

