a lonely park walk
can rejuvenate the soul
(my soul needs flowers)
city
Call to Prayer
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.
Why I Teach
Day Twenty-Seven, Road Trip 2016
Day Twenty-Three, Road Trip 2016
Day Twenty-Two, Road Trip 2016
our cycle closes
with a capital bike ride
and a pointed view
this city has won my heart
even in the heat
through a symmetrical stroll
of fallen soldiers
museums, monuments, paths
marking past; future.
remembering our lost dreams
in these reflections
Day Twenty-One, Road Trip 2016
Day Fourteen, Road Trip 2016
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)


















































