this day, three years back:
an unfair observation
on a testing day.
i thought i was done;
trying to be good enough
was just not enough
and now? full circle–
a grapevine request to see
my expert teaching
from a district head
who saw just minutes of us
(speaking for us all).
now he’s bringing guests
to show others how it looks
to teach ELD
(the irony stings
with my facebook memory–
a harsh reminder)
but all things must change
from weak saplings to gold leaves
that have brought me home
renewal
And Then I Remember
This. This is why I teach. For three years she’s been in my class. She has gotten married. Had a baby. But she still can’t decode words. She still struggles with basic sentences. I know she has more going on in her mind than Bambara and Mali and motherhood, but I haven’t found a way to reach this girl. I haven’t been able to communicate with her in a way to help her understand. But “reliving” 1880s farm chores today, she said, “I got this. We do this in my country.” And today, today, today, she was the best at something. This. This is #whyiteach
Falling in Love
Seasonal Cat Disorder
Over the Hump
Stay Gold
from this flight: find light
carry it twenty years past
your flight-or-fight life
through the turbulence
of youth’s wanderlust wonders,
past career questions,
into the blue sky
of a healthy tomorrow
shined by little grins.
find the golden light
carried by heavenly wings
that kept you on Earth.
happy fortieth,
twenty years without cancer,
and still shining bright.
Silver Lining Lunch Date
Introverted Beauty
Call to Prayer
it isn’t church,
but a Sunday morning sunshine ride–
a line of bikes glistening in waning summer heat,
with shout-outs as loud as a preacher who
calls his parishioners to God:
Bike up!
Bike back!
Slowing!
Gravel on the path!
Car up!
Clear!
the words trickle down the line,
heated breaths repeating them
so loud that even prairie dogs
stand at attention to hear.
and we wrap ourselves
in blue-sky calorie burning
led by a fast-paced 78-year-old man,
just as forgiving for our
missed turns and flat tires
as the best of His missionaries.
Find the Fleeting Light
scaling these cliff walls
feels easier than your words
of guilt and judgment
yet, rivers sparkle;
ancients thrived here, not survived
(just like you and me)
too much to take in–
the beauty of history,
of sights still unseen,
of children’s faces
as youth clings as fleetingly
as the setting sun
we are captive here
in these soft moments of light
(help me preserve them)























