a lonely park walk
can rejuvenate the soul
(my soul needs flowers)
it isn’t church,
but a Sunday morning sunshine ride–
a line of bikes glistening in waning summer heat,
with shout-outs as loud as a preacher who
calls his parishioners to God:
Bike up!
Bike back!
Slowing!
Gravel on the path!
Car up!
Clear!
the words trickle down the line,
heated breaths repeating them
so loud that even prairie dogs
stand at attention to hear.
and we wrap ourselves
in blue-sky calorie burning
led by a fast-paced 78-year-old man,
just as forgiving for our
missed turns and flat tires
as the best of His missionaries.
sometimes all it takes
are some quiet lunch moments
to feel it’s worth it
road trip starts to end
with wide open river views,
bridges to cross them
Kentucky burns bright
holds together rebel groups
and holds our heart tight
three-storied row homes,
a riverfront fountain park,
DC’s a winner
our cycle closes
with a capital bike ride
and a pointed view
with paths everywhere
this city has won my heart
even in the heat
where honor presides
through a symmetrical stroll
of fallen soldiers
DC mixes all:
museums, monuments, paths
marking past; future.
we find ourselves here
remembering our lost dreams
in these reflections
a cultural mix
in language, architecture
(our country’s center)
library of all
holds too many gems to count
a sight for sore eyes
best of both worlds:
fusbol, patatas bravas
right here in DC
best of all worlds:
my family together, here,
discovering this.
Girl Scout Headquarters
mixed with colonial wealth
(built on the slaves’ backs)
sometimes beauty’s marred
history’s hard to swallow
amid perfect squares
yet we walk through it
splashing, playing giant chess,
our steps going on
pieces of our past
even when they’re earned with blood
mark a clear future:
we can absorb this,
take pics, eat gator, and grin,
hoping we’ve moved on
(though the shadows know
of King Cotton, oppressed girls,
Sherman’s burning march)
we can’t have it all
the vacation, family… peace
without the whole truth
we can just love them
hope they never see the dark
(only the beauty)
tree-lined streets adieu
NOLA saved for memories
as we meet the dawn
Pensacola Beach:
a hot disappointment rests
behind Blue Angels
but once the sky clears
the clear water saves the day
before sea-bridge drive
our Florida lesson:
aim for blue skies, check schedules,
and fly for our dreams
we cycle cities
joy found wherever we go
cause life’s a cycle
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