Disappearing Milestones

the youngest’s birthday 
(an early celebration)
before big sis leaves

Grin and Bear It

Toy Story 3. Now.
i could carry the bag out
and cry all morning

a toy, a trigger?
my girl is off to college.
(this is no cartoon).

and so he will stay.
though i know she will leave me.
each grinning their truth.

like this worn-out dog
i have nearly given up…
yet, i’m a Taurus.

and so i garden
though it, too, is a failure
stolen by flowers

this year’s loss, in pics:
weeds and grass and tearing out 
for one little heart

before the long drive,
enjoy the perfect park. shop.
soak up cousin time.

eat your sister’s meal
till the next time you see her.
too long (just too long).

your daughters will drive.
together, we can make it.
we will rule the night.

it’s all we can rule
with the oldest off to school
we can rule the night.

cycling through hills
of perfectly green horse farms 
before paddling

bucket lists are short
but should include Kentucky 
for its soft beauty

my grandparents’ store
in this perfect little town
where they’ll always rest

Uncle Tim’s hard work
built for them from the ground up
(now he’s retired)

the pond where we swam 
and where i brought my toddler 
now off to college

how harsh time can be
taking everything away
yet giving us life

brown babe gull, black sails,
our last New England beach day
before the road home

the Constitution 
(a ship in Boston Harbor)
has won my man’s heart

a tavern lunch date
for our last family road trip
with all of our girls

all grown up, my girls
(they’ve been everywhere with us)
and soon they will fly

a windy beach day
followed by farmers’ market
for tonight’s dinner

this “bike path” presents:
sea-level cycling; beach
(rode on Rhode Island)

there’s seafood here, too.
and family filled with smiles
and gardening goals