sunflowers, carrots
zucchini ready to burst
bring it on, summer



seltzer, zucchini,
cosmos invading background
what else says July?
sunflowers, carrots
zucchini ready to burst
bring it on, summer



seltzer, zucchini,
cosmos invading background
what else says July?
a hike can’t save us.
the heat seems to want us dead.
but the masks? yes. yes.

all the Boulderites.
they get it. even on trails.
why is it so hard?

you could have this view.
away from the pandemic.
if you’d just listen.

in March, we built it.
Douglas Fir, organic soil
we placed it. waited.


in April, snow hit.
the harshest frost recorded
so late in the spring.

in May, leaves blossomed
flaunting for the cold world
their defiance.

in June, flowers bloomed
as pretty as peonies,
protecting their roots


in July, i dug
searching for gold in soft soil
and finding these gems


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


Colorado hikes:
definition of summer
plush with Columbines


a bike ride downtown
to this perfect patio
almost like old times


peas above my head,
jalapeños and lettuce,
a nice welcome home



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.

Kentucky cycles:
you can find happiness in
rolling hills, horse farms



nothing like my park
and isn’t that so perfect?
vines, dogs, shade, creeks, peace.


nothing like my path
and isn’t that so perfect?
sun, hills, curves, town, bike.


