acceptance settles
as we see the bright blue sky
(first time in two weeks)
An expensive hike
yet easy, green, glacial blue
make it worth millions
where can you see ice
floating from nearby glacier
as You eat your lunch?
Alaska wins us
though it can’t fully win her
(my pup will save me)
twelve hours feels short
with this hot springs in the mix
five-dollar heaven
driving Canada?
getting gas is exhausting
perfection elsewhere
glacial blue-gray lakes
mountains shrouded in dawn’s mist
so many rivers
the Al-Can delights
with curves, trees, hills, and mountains
to aid a long day
puppy is tired
yet he lives for where we are
so he truly lives
rainy morning walk
in this lushly green forest
boggy, soggy moss
an afternoon soak
in these hot springs mountains
to stave off the chill
on the best drive home
we saw a family of sheep
we saw views going blue
quick grocery run
reorganizing our camp
dawn: ready to roll
a glass reflection
to start Canada travels
cold, bright, beautiful
Banff captures the crowds
who come to see Lake Louise
with its glacial blue
pup’s living the life
that most dogs only dream of
lake dips and air licks
ten thousand miles
begins before the sunrise
red, ready for us
two and a half states
bring us mountains, skies, and lakes
blue, gold, crimson calm
life isn’t parking—
adapting to site unseen
from a computer
but look at this lake
and this brown-eyed, sleepy pup
Montana, my heart
ten thousand miles
begins before the sunrise
red, ready for us
two and a half states
bring us mountains, skies, and lakes
blue, gold, crimson calm
life isn’t parking—
adapting to site unseen
from a computer
bug look at this lake
and this brown-eyed, sleepy pup
Montana, my heart
bluebird mountain day
catching the golden aspens
before they burn bare
Just like us, twenty-one years back, they were walking their two dogs. The sun was ready to set, and their dogs would plop down on their laps later, ready for a rest. They were grinning in the golden light of the first day of fall, so young and beautiful.
She wore a black t-shirt that accentuated her bulging belly, he a ball cap and a matching shirt. No worries on a Saturday night. Just get the dogs home, put the baby-in-the-belly to bed, watch a flick, go to sleep.
But they had to gawk at me. Crane their necks for the scene I was making.
“Just ONE PIC!!”
I was begging; pleading.
No, it didn’t matter that they’d rushed through the fancy meal I’d spent hours preparing. That their friend was late and didn’t even have a bite. That the remnants of the Minnesota Wild Rice stew were spilled across the kitchen. That their friends were already in the park taking sunset pics.
That this is the last Homecoming.
And goddamn it, I needed JUST ONE PIC.
My baby girl, her friend since sixth grade, her friend since ninth grade, her other friends waiting at the park.
Just. One.
Because this is my last Homecoming.
I looked over at the expecting couple, turning the corner but still craning their necks as I squatted down, iPhone on pulse mode, trying to capture the snark, the impatience, the beauty.
“Oh… you’ll be me before you can blink,” I shouted, and they laughed and laughed and laughed as they walked down the block, not knowing how hard those coming months, years, moments would be. How they’d be begging for one picture, one moment with their baby, their child, their… young adult.
How quickly these sunset moments flash before our eyes.
Before you can blink, they are gone.
i know how they feel
trapped outside with no control
over their own fate
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