the long walk to school
(meant to calm dreaded return)
backsplashed by moonlight
it lit my trapped way
to judgment i can’t escape
via teenage angst
then came home to lies.
sometimes life is like a cell:
the beginning, the end
yet, there is escape
small moments of truth and love
backsplashed by sunrise
back from mountain views
what that means: laundry, cleaning
organizing life
car vacuumed and wiped
every last load put away
while girls made snow forts
(i know… they should work
i should hover over them
like a copter mom)
but they’ll forget dirt
recall bricks of snow with friends
(happy childhood)
i’ll take on the dirt
if only for one Sunday
(reorganized life)
an icy walk down
on the road too drive-scary
to downtown Estes
riverwalk and all
we sipped tea and ate popcorn
and made our way “home”
with fire waiting
and Colorado mountains
in A-frame beauty
this weekend knits us
embroidered with paint and thread
built by firelight
to ring in New Year
we drove two hours past home
to make a weekend
we saw A-frame views
and slept in with circle flames
before we ventured
he slid us down hill
and we slid in the new year
with sleds, skis, snowshoes
because life is such:
moments of fear, winter ice
and warm flame endings
second thoughts run deep
two hundred dollars later
and him always mad
my bestie takes blame
(her kitten was first, she claims)
but this is my fault
how deep does love run?
for my oldest: no-phone prize
for us all: pet love
sometimes i wonder
how hovering hurt runs deep
to pick our pockets
if i could keep her
(and keep his heart with me too)
we’d run through the depths
the plague of pet life:
what’s wrong with those that can’t speak
yet shit everywhere
finally finished
ready to send on its way
to a hopeful life
on my winter walk
to the store for its framing
city windmills spun
semi-frozen lake
with geese searching snow for grass
i clocked three miles
the girls took friendjoy
and kitten-lap-book cuddles
to carve our Tuesday
(yet–there was a hole–
chicken noodle in crockpot,
rolls ready to bake)
he worked late again
and bore the winter ride home
no windmills in sight
i haven’t written
and you call out the whole truth
(love my introvert)
i know you hate her
and i know you–you’ll love her
shit in car and all
just like you loved me
threads falling from my buttons
(you just resisted)
shit on car and all
you fell head over heels, Love
in love with this mess
(and look at those eyes)
true as the cat is black, Babes
true as hard core truth
smallest singing songs
while middle child gets left
by lazy teacher
add to “redo” lunch
(they again ran out of food)
our grammar school blues
but there’s still music
in the lives of my children
when we arrive home
they play clapping games
chase grins on their way to bed
sing sorrows away
i took back her phone
she cried for thirty minutes
then emerged from room
a week has now passed
i’ve seen her face more this week
than in the past year
she’s on page fifty
of a novel she started…
to write, not to read!
she plays piano
taught herself Star Wars theme songs
Darth Vader and all
she talks to us now
and plays games with her sisters
just like a child
she is my child
and i’ve ended the battle
that would lead to war
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