Kentucky River
holds the morning cliff paddle
(limestone for horses)
you can’t find this view
west of the Mississippi
(where it’s drought, drought, dry)
here? just paddling
along the river, the creek
till you find yourself
you might find turtles
(soft shells, even, a bonus)
as you move along
just like the sliders
they slip into the water
hoping for the best
handmade arts and crafts
working their way through college
the way it should be
artisans, trees:
intertwine their native souls
to make Earth special
Kentucky kayaks
have defined my sister’s life
this past fifteen years
through all the algae
fighting through climate crises
we keep paddling
life is a rope swing
make a running circle out
and don’t hit the tree
those just-jumped-in grins
can win our independence
from a dark future
finally, some snow
pretty enough for a pic
to wipe hopelessness
my pup, lake, camp, board:
seemingly perfect weekend
(calm before the storm)
the weather plagues me
sending wind when there was none
and stealing these views
if i could lift wings,
glide pelican-like, headfirst,
it wouldn’t matter
alas, i must walk
through all the humanoid storms
that we’ve created
recent garden news:
our tenth homegrown salad meal,
lupines, lilies, love
you can feel the heat
creeping into the photo
burning from within
family tradition:
plant trees for graduates
and watch how they grow
my mother's tree stands
at my great-aunt's former home
taller than us all
my sister's tree shades
disappearing middle-class
(our childhood home)
and my tree shocks me
evading the ash borer
with grandiose grace
what you don’t see here:
picking rhubarb in the rain
for salvation pie
all i want today
is to watch the sunlight shift
on these reborn blooms
the blue-sky morning
can't capture a year of loss
(oh Lord, that sweet scent)
yet afternoon light
so perfectly shines rosy
(ends this hell-frost year)
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