i used to write poetry
broken lines, imperfect syllables, heart
so hard so imperfect so fucking bright
like the blue sky trying to break through and taunt a hailstorm but instead instead
instead
it's just ice
not the rain we needed to cool us in a heatwave
just ice
tearing through my well-tended garden
stealing the blue sky
steeling the blue eye
and ruining me
family
A Tree Grows in Denver
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
Fuzzy Blooms
thank you for the “no.”
as phallic as this lupine
(allium ignored)
i will learn from this
(things i tell myself at night)
and grow a sagebrush
it will bloom purple
(you can’t see my true color)
and you can’t taste it
yet, here it blossoms
as beautiful as the home
you constantly loathe
i know. i know. i…
you don’t see what i see. stop.
but god. how it hurts.
Relish Them
these rare teen moments
everyone together; joy
minus jobs, school, stress
Flatiron Fresh
summer days beckon
drinks on rooftop patios
(mocktails for the kids)
the cold creek calls us
with shade, icy refreshment
from the sun’s harsh heat
and these cousins bond
under summer vacation
(our home is their heart)
Always in Line
i’ve tried hard for grins
as hard as they are to earn
(teen reality)
Bloomsday
my mother’s birthday
surrounded by flowers, kids,
laughter in all forms
Rhubarb Rules
what you don’t see here:
picking rhubarb in the rain
for salvation pie
Sunflower Girl
entrepreneur
winning with her lemonade
even as a teen
Good Steps
three-thirty a.m.
my oldest’s footsteps. good steps.
intentional steps.
this is not a moon.
this is a lunar eclipse.
(Super-Flower-Blood)
and she’ll be gone soon.
(no early-morning steps).
and i. am. eclipsed.
shadows of loss win
the afternoon shines bright.
(we still have our moon)
