Full Circle

this news sent so quickly in the midst
of my latest sacrifice (summer school)
brings it all together–
the twelve plus years of parenthood
where each of us stepped out of our careers
to stay home
to be there, wholly be there,
for every waking moment of their childhood

(it was mostly him,
a remorse i will carry
long after they have left the house)

and three years back,
when i made that choice
to carry this family to Spain,
and all the weight of it
that i have carried since
(was it the right choice?
was it worth the debt?
will we lose our house?
are the girls’ schools good enough?
have they lost every speck of Spanish?)

all of it comes full circle with his text:
I got the job.
The REAL job.
The DREAM job.
the job he’s been waiting for
since he stepped out of the barracks
and into The Real World,
where he was offered contract after contract
(no benefits, no real hope)
and was better than most of the company employees
(and better than any man you will ever meet)

and here we are.
seventeen years into the marriage.
twelve and a half into parenthood.
a stay-at-home chef, hairstylist,
chauffeur, housekeeper, computer technician,
financial analyst, tax adviser, veteran,
TELECOM TECH.
here we are, dream-of-dreams,
full circle, lifetime opportunity later.

and it was so worth it.
so, so, so worth it.

Weathering

flat tire, blue sky
 my Saturday summer break
 (till summer school ends)
 
 goslings with goslings
 we cycle through challenges
 and beat the rain home
 
 My Brother’s Bar waits
 with a perfect patio
 and Arnold Palmers
 
 REI repairs
 what’s left of my human faith
 ride home: tires full
 
 the creek overflows
 not enough to stop my girl
 (daredevil like me)
 
 now, patio time
 lighter rain than what we’ve had
 such is life, weather
 

Cycle Through It

a flooded river
 can’t keep pedals from the path
 when at last there’s sun
 
 

Bono Vox

U2 speaks to me
 (in ways simple words cannot)
 with notes of passion
 
 

Fluff

 yes, it’s in the blog.
 everything you can’t recall.
 that i’ve recorded.
 
 that is what it’s for.
 hard drive with screen. ready. use.
 measure me my life.
 
 they’ll come. and they’ll go.
 but you and i? together
 peanut butter, fluff.
 
 my breakfast today:
 on soft wheat bread that you bought
 with our love dollar

Ideology

in a search for faith
 we forget humanity
 in all its beauty
 
 we judge; don’t reach out,
 cast stones without confession
 pit love against faith
 
 flags fly in all camps
 begging for new believers
 each claiming the truth
 
 what if we used hearts?
 and arms and hugs and kisses?
 would we be sinful?
 
 here we lose our faith
 in a connection-less void
 we call religion
 
 
 

Return

sunny skies return
 for a barbecue birthday
 mimosas and love
 
 perfect city walk
 through the perfect Denver ‘hood
 gold gardens galore
 
 kids with grandparents
 treasuring these small moments
 till the rain returns
 
 

Voices

younger girls’ voices
 marred by oldest’s attitude
 they just want to sing
 
 i just want to hear
 all their tiny voices sing
 like when they were tots
 
 concert on the green
 plagued by rain, adolescence,
 unforgiving looks
 
 at home, peace returns
 Daddy’s voice sings poetry
 as he says goodnight
 
 the oldest studies
 in her hole of happiness
 escapes into books
 
 my voice escapes me
 don’t know how to talk to her
 no voice of reason
 
 will she hear my voice
 when in my dreams, she listens?
 gives voice to my joy?
 
 we all have choices
 to hear the ‘tude or the song
 listen… sweet voices!
 
 

Winding Wounds

no way to see her
 as the crazy little girl
 now so close to teen
 
 i’d rewind our lives
 to bring back those soft moments
 without dirty looks
 
 alas, i chose this
 and still love her–so fiercely–
 love can’t be rewound
 
 
 

Waterfront

Colorado beach
 is a stream and campfire
 my relaxation