water still as ice
while wildfires choke sky
with climate change breath


water still as ice
while wildfires choke sky
with climate change breath


only this sunrise
shaped by feared wildfires
could make these strange scenes




how couldn’t you love
living amongst these sunsets?
set by fire, love.


you’ll never see light
like these Friday night lights, love.
you’ll see handlebars.

we win with bike lanes.
with the illusion of truth.
with blue skies and heat.

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

two hours waiting
engines idle, polluting
to check emissions

a small victory
using my hands to plant peas
as they fought spring snow

as they outgrew me
using my hands to pick peas
during quarantine


they made two harvests
using my hands to shell peas
a small victory


along a river
this fairy tale ferry stop
has stood a beacon




in muddy waters
kids get to be kids all day
while mamas paddle


nature is our home
found in Kentucky fire
lit by desire



if only these pics were perfect
as perfectly peaceful as they appear
and no one lost a phone (and all the love attached) to a lake
and no one said they hated each other
and no one lied to their mother
and no one cried.


but life isn’t this lake
this quiet Kentucky fishing lake that we ruined with six screaming kids and one barking dog
this peaceful lake for paddling or praying or both
this swimmable, all-ours, wake-free lake.

Life is this lake, isn’t it?
Perfect and not so perfect.

hiking out hurts us
(to face the world’s anger
instead of these trees)

the packing ordeal
of a backpacking journey
is so exhausting

for these quiet views
we walk into the forest
leaving all behind


(if only we could
forget the masks and all else
and escape this plague)
