Day Eighteen, Road Trip 2015

sunrise silent view
 collecting glacial water
 from my hometown lake
 
 impossible sights
 832 steps
 made by miracles
 
 spring water fill up
 waterfall wonderment walk
 distant valley view
 
 lunch at the vineyard
 blue as sky midday lake taste
 (feast as delicious)
 
 swim in clear waters
 girls fearless of bottom plants
 wet fun in cool lake
 
 grade school best friends meet
 each of us toting three kids
 (could have been our life)
 
 but i’ll take this view:
 journeys home–here, everywhere
 all have a sunrise
 
 

Day Seventeen, Road Trip 2015

met in a drugstore
 seventy years of marriage
 through three kids, three wars
 
 still earth’s travelers
 color-coded pins mark map
 slept, lived, camped, drove, flew
 
 she swims every day
 he mows the yard and pulls weeds
 they tease each other
 
 best of all? they grin
 take tragedy, joy in turns
 till death do them part
 
 (this is why i drive
 take my kids along the road
 live long by travel)
 
 

Day Sixteen, Road Trip 2015

small town tire delay
 gives us reason for lobster
 (just a short Maine walk)
 
 two missed turns later
 we find winding New Hampshire
 ready for ice cream
 
 fixed reservation
 at a camp we’ve never seen
 top out my Monday
 
 late night text shocker:
 best sleeping bag left in Maine
 (adventure goes on)
 
 we find our way back
 on lobster walks, ice cream runs
 till we feel at home
 
 that’s how the road plays:
 missed turns, rushed escape attempts
 journeys everywhere
 
 

Day Fifteen, Road Trip 2015

focus on beach time
 not the lost stakes, the thunder,
 the flat tire hell
 
 not the life critique,
 lack of lobster, the car bed
 (just the grinning sand)
 
 

Day Twelve, Road Trip 2015

clay covered bodies
 splash across a Vermont beach
 wreaking love-havoc
 
 one idea spun
 across Colorado wheels
 makes their dreams come true
 
 the road’s life. managed.
 choices and back seat spaces
 (why we bought this car)
 
 “we’re not so different.
 i can tell you live for them”
 (so worth the long drive)
 
 a morning Maine call
 beach memories yet to make
 vibrant happiness
 
 this is my road trip:
 let the journey be better
 than its destiny
 
 

Day Eleven, Road Trip 2015

the truth spills from mouth
 already opened by beer
 on a Vermont night
 
 they’ve always wondered
 and now they know: love is love
 in these small moments
 
 scattered across states
 childhood relived, by heart
 found in their voices
 
 this is my road trip:
 empty chairs, two thousand miles
 joy in every game
 
 but life’s a gamble–
 Disney or Vermont? choice? please?
 i’ll take the shortcut
 
 driving worldwide
 to find a cloudless blue sky
 to guide my way home
 
 

Day Ten, Road Trip 2015

drive starts with best store
 candy store within the store
 (we all need fill ups)
 
 green mountain state calls
 with back roads and endless views
 we make our way home:
 
 where we stand in rain
 and talk like it’s been three days
 (never mind three years)
 
 while the kids recite
 the spinning songs of preschool
 that spun us this time
 
 reunion’s beauty
 claws at my throat, my heart.
 rain can’t renew it
 
 this trip from my dreams:
 three years, three thousand miles–
 six hearts in one
 
 

Day Seven, Road Trip 2015

walk across downtown
 with my urban planning mom
 walking rating: zilch
 
 veggies are heavy
 when carrying Kentucky
 weight on both shoulders
 
 redemptive moment
 on green lake with blue kayaks
 (words he’ll never read)
 
 a campfire end
 to a summer daydream trip
 (only innocence)
 
 full circle i’ve turned
 since five years back, her birth year
 (my first niece. cousins)
 
 but he won’t see that.
 only weakness bearing down
 on our bright union
 
 love like this? just once.
 with dark swings on late porches
 he can’t even touch
 
 but for her bright eyes
 the firelit sunset eve
 forgiveness follows.
 

Love=Family

a morning discourse
 to get me through the last day.
 she gives in. i win.
 
 when one of her five
 desires the same gender
 will she change her mind?
 
 families surround us:
 single, married, divorced, set–
 love makes children grow
 
 not biology.
 (we’ve been friends forever now.
 we have climbed mountains).
 
 valleys take their turn.
 she will judge, blame, point fingers.
 i will love, love, love.
 
 

Hazel at Best

four weeks: iced mocha
 from his teacher’s salary
 to my starving morn
 
 one more disruption
 to make my students argue
 (entitlements rule)
 
 his blue-eyed gesture
 almost makes the sacrifice
 worth the sinking sun
 
 he knows and i know
 that he can’t buy my return;
 best or not–i’m gone
 
 no blue eyes at home
 (from my man or anyone)
 on my girls’ faces
 
 nor a mocha bribe
 for the heart-winning teacher.
 cynic? true. best? yes.
 
 no film, court judges,
 observers, department heads
 are worth this money
 
 ’cause money can’t buy
 another summer soon lost
 in a blue-eyed search