magic pupusas
like play dough for my nieces
home cooked by my son
side of garden leaves,
fresh cut perfect peonies,
beauty from our home
Coronatine, Day Eighty-six
quarantine
Coronatine, Day Eighty-five
hiking out hurts us
(to face the world’s anger
instead of these trees)
Coronatine, Day Eighty-four
from aspens to pines
peaks and creeks guide our soft steps
toward tranquility
Coronatine, Day Eighty-three
the packing ordeal
of a backpacking journey
is so exhausting
for these quiet views
we walk into the forest
leaving all behind
(if only we could
forget the masks and all else
and escape this plague)
Coronatine, Day Eighty-one
peonies for peace
if only they could bring it
to brighten our lives
Coronatine, Day Seventy-nine
exchanging language
a small step brought by small girls
(the journey begins)
never would he speak
now he speaks: “You’re next, Ruby”
quarantine blessing
Coronatine, Day Seventy-eight
solo hike with pup
not marred by weather; just bikes
but these flowers; views.
Coronatine, Day Seventy-seven (Unmasked Blooms)
our mother’s birthday
with a masked botanic trip
through perfect gardens
Coronatine, Day Seventy-six
summer cinema
(fun with Kentucky cousins)
all with just a sheet
Coronatine, Day Seventy-five
should i post pea buds
or a bunch of trashed balloons?
(each its own beauty)
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