Cone Friday

’cause a small ice cream
 is what ends disturbing week
 where childhood wins
 

Leaves

stomach tumbling
 with sick realization:
 innocence now lost
 
 just three days ago
 she was climbing up the limbs
 of youth’s bulging tree
 
 her arms strong and thin
 (but what was bulging inside,
 ready to burst free?)
 
 to know that she knows
 kills me from the inside out
 (as a mom, a slave)
 
 failures drop like leaves
 of youth’s impending autumn
 to crunch with my woes
 
 i’ve always loved leaves
 (but there’s no satisfaction
 in this kind of crunch.)
 
 she searches hollows
 to fill a hollow within
 (i’ve searched too. in vain.)
 
 to know that she knows
 brings every dark doubt to light
 (no tree-limbed safe-net)
 
 what will she climb next?
 (the strong arms of a stranger
 who will leave no leaves…)
 
 a mom’s greatest fear:
 to lose children to branches
 that i cannot reach
 
 

Denver ReCycled

through cycling
 in and out of neighborhoods
 brick by brick, i fell
 
 love lost, and then won
 bungalow to bungalow
 my city wooed me
 
 the wheels spun me back
 (sold my heart to Cheesman Park)
 from bad-boy breakups
 
 all along back streets
 Park Hill, Cole, Cory Merrill
 like love at first spin
 
 bikes are trendy now
 (they’ll dress like freaks to prove it)
 but my bike love lives
 
 in this uphill ride
 with mountain sunset backdrop
 my girls guiding me
 
 i see them falling–
 street by street, scraped knees and all–
 in love with my love
 
 

Day Dealings

sunset on this day
 can’t capture light nor finish
 what the day has dealt
 
 i’ll run till i die
 or die trying to run free
 from days that chase me
 
 

Love’s Labor Lost

beach day ends summer
 (though it’s already over)
 school can kick our ass
 
 she’ll paddle toward sun
 let weekend sparkles shine through–
 make this week worth it
 
 with our lives packed up
 these small moments so matter
 more than i can say
 
 even with the rain
 that raced us back to our car
 we dried off. and won.
 
 

Back to School Night

this is tonight’s shot:
 empty desks without parents
 but please: blame teachers
 

Smooth Migration

my thousandth visit
 just as pretty as the first
 brings peace to my stress
 
 and seeing her run
 beating her time on day two
 goose wings to the sky
 
 

Cross Country

weekend leftovers
 murmur an early Monday
 in my groaning gut
 
 technology blues
 plague two classes, one meeting
 forced into nonsense
 
 data collection
 begins my singular plan
 till phone rings: sick kid
 
 frazzled packing up
 for a stomach flu faker
 then two extra kids
 
 but that is not all!
 cross country registration
 at the last moment
 
 my middle girl runs!
 two days a week, a new plan:
 laps around the park
 
 (he can cook dinner–
 we’ll eat late like back in Spain,
 shed this U.S. stress)
 
 and i will run too–
 take tree-lined tech-free views home
 (run free, not ragged)
 
 
 
 

Two Too Many

end of day feet up
 hours on end of walking
 then pickup, dinner…
 
 day two of two jobs
 the runaround’s new to me
 exhaustion takes time
 
 the girls say it best:
 hang the dolls on bike rack noose
 and call it a day
 
 

Hatched

first day of too old
 can’t believe how big they’ve grown
 so far from our shell
 
 yes, they’ve broken free
 walk out into the world
 chick fluff gone with grins