love

Relish

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What’s not to love?
Peaches and blackberries from here
in JUNE
(I’ve met the farmer, seen the farm)
a petting farm the kids will never forget
the endless two lane roads that
lead to forests, lakes, rivers,
showing off idyllic red barns,
columnar farmhouses,
well-tamed cattle and horses,
and
peace.

What’s missing?
Traffic.
Light pollution.
Unfriendly city slickers.
The rush to get… anywhere, really.
People who don’t know you wherever you go.

What’s next?
Six more weeks of bike rides,
swimming in warm-water lakes,
exploring backcountry roads,
hiking in diversified forests,
and
relishing the place we never
thought that we could relish.

Crowded House

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You may think that
two bedrooms, a
converted-to-bedroom dining room,
a crammed-into-corner-of-kitchen table
(seating seven), a single living room,
and yes, a single bathroom,
might be a bit crowded for
eight people (four big, four small).

Or

You may see that
three girls sharing one bed in harmony,
parents who get their own room,
dinner together as a family every night
(seating seven), sitting together to play games
and read stories, and taking turns
to share the shower, show that
love allows
eight people (four small, four big)
to make this crowded house a home.

Delete

/ lovizmytrio / Leave a comment

just when i think my heart has moved on
you haunt me with messages in my dreams
forcing me to sever this one last tie that
has kept me connected to you (your life
without me) for more than a year.

it is just a click of one button (delete)
that eliminates all the hope held somewhere
within me, the hope that hovers inside my
dreams, sticking around like a bee in a
field of non-native clover.

it is just a click of one button (delete)
that i hope will rid the constant imagery,
the begging for forgiveness, the desire
that i have (that i have always had) for
you to love me as much as i have loved you.

it is just a click of one button (delete)
that i hadn’t the strength to push until today,
one year later, closing the screen (closing
my heart) to the amazing person that you (I)
have missed because of too many button clicks.

My New Kentucky Home

/ lovizmytrio / 1 Comment

This isn’t what I expected.
I imagined intolerable heat
(and it can be)
flat, muggified air
(sometimes it is)
and having to drive 55 miles
to get anywhere decent
(sometimes i just ride the bike instead).

Yes, it is what I expected.
But I didn’t know about
the rolling country roads
(an endless bike trail),
the diversified forests with
trees as gigantic as the
skyscrapers I’m accustomed to,
rivers and lakes and streams
around every corner that bear
bath-warm water to swim in
morning, noon, and night,
bridges that span the lakes,
rivers, and streams in a
magnificent rainbow of
mile-long architectural beauty,
state parks that have no entrance
fees, free hot working showers,
even swimming pools, hotels,
and golf courses, with grounds
maintained as impeccably as
upscale resorts, humidity that
allows me to breathe easier,
pedal faster, and keep my
contacts in all day long,
and
love for my new Kentucky home.

Waterfront Property

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at times it feels like nothing less
than a gigantic pile of work: the
seven sleeping bags, two tents,
four bags of food, two melting-quickly
coolers, dog leashes, rain flies,
camping chairs, shovel, swim bag,
toiletry bag, overnight bag… it sits in
the dirt as we lethargically carry piece
by piece and load up the two cars.

but with one last look through the
glorious green leaves out onto the
cove (waterfront property for a night),
the girls bobbing up and down in
their life jackets, Daddy with his
fishing pole, Uncle Zak dipping the
oars of the kayak into the smooth water,
i can still feel the tingle of it on my skin,
washing away the exhaustion, the work,
and bathing me in memories that will
build up a gigantic pile of love in my heart.

Southern Sweet Air

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You will never know how perfectly pink
(like the cotton candy they crave) these
wisps of fluffy clouds above me dance as
my ears are filled with only the soft sounds
of arms dipping into the warm-then-cool water.

You will never taste the freshness of
this Kentucky lake (river), with the bass
biting at his bait, with the girls bobbing
up and down like lures alongside the kayak
while the sun pretends to bring coolness as it
sets behind the flood of hardwoods.

You will never have this moment (my moment)
with my face so sweetly exposed to the
southern sweet air, my ears gushing bubbles,
my heart wishing nothing more but
right now, right now, right now, because
you haven’t given in to the heat,
stripped down to your half-naked self,
and run into the water, remembering
(forgetting) for the first time
how to breathe.

In Your Eyes I See Myself

/ lovizmytrio / 2 Comments

In your eyes, though they’re hazel
(not deep pools of brown like mine)
I see myself, first when they roll, then
when they lead you into naughtiness,
and as much as I scold you, I know
in my heart I am only scolding myself.

I wish I could take your hand and truly
see the world through those beautiful eyes
of yours, interpreting the truth in a way
I can no longer understand, dancing and
laughing and knowing more than you
(we) should, just so that we could get along,
just so that we can enjoy each other’s company.

In your eyes, though they’re hazel
I see the flecks of brown that come out
darker every day, my lasting mark on you,
the permanence of our colors intertwined
as you dash about, determined (just like I am)
to create your (our) own destiny, letting no one
(even a mother) stop us from getting what we want.

Writing (Riding)

/ lovizmytrio / Leave a comment

the sun is writing on my back
with an early morning marker
(yellow-orange, scented like
moist soil and ripened pollen)

and i am writing on my bike
as I take hill after sloping hill
under my tires, the curves beckoning
me to the end of the road.

there she waits, a giant sloth of
spring-muddy water creeping
toward the gulf, either side lush
with full-leafed hardwoods.

i wait for them here, moisture
writing on my back, as i relive
the momentous views, the perfect
ride that I never thought could be here.

the sun is higher now, writing across
the sky its midday mark of southern heat,
and they pop out of the car with hugs,
smiles that we will ride into the night.

Yes and No

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Day of no:
no bike
no hike
no long drive
no dining out
no mosquito bites
no missing cat
no naughty girls
no lakes

Day of yes:
yes, you can fish for the first time
yes, you can catch five
yes, you can take them home
yes, you can cut them up for dinner
yes, you can pour some of my beer in to cook them
yes, you can buy fresh peaches in June
yes, you can make this damn peach pie without losing it
yes, you can have an extra scoop of cherry ice cream
yes, you can climb down the bank to the creek bed
yes, you could live in Kentucky if you really, really tried

Hugging the White Line

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on the road she told me not to take
i hug the white line
in a race against the sunset,
not used to the countryside
with its erratic traffic,
endless cornfields dotted
with day lilies as red-orange
as the sun behind me,
hills that curve and roll into
each other like waves of
rural nonchalance, and its
dangerous lack of streetlights.

with tunes popped in and
the golden glow of a busy day’s end
pushing me home, i beat
my average speed, sweat
dripping down me with as many
torrents as the rainfall that
left me drenched yesterday,
and I come into town, settle the
bike into place on the porch,
grinning at the silence of the
usually-loud streetlight across
the street, still dark in these last
few moments of light, basking in
these last few moments of the race I’ve won.