Miracle Man

in thirty-eight years
 he’s made me miracles
 (since before we met)
 
 miracle one: birth–
 an afterthought, late-marriage,
 named-after-dad fourth
 
 miracle two: shy–
 wouldn’t say more than needed
 from grade school on up
 
 miracle three: serve–
 mother, father, siblings, friends,
 country, lovers… wife
 
 miracle four: kids
 who can capture his essence
 in smiles, sweetness
 
 miracle five: love–
 couldn’t come to broken hearts
 till we met. and healed.
 
 miracle six: hope–
 ’cause without him there’d be none.
 happy birthday, Babes.
 
 

Cheesecake Cycle

early morning ride
 in search of a springform pan
 obstacles block route
 
 stores aren’t convenient
 when his birthday’s tomorrow
 and i just can’t wait
 
 twenty-four miles
 transforms fast to thirty-two
 in mid-morning heat
 
 Google, phone fail me
 i meander through suburbs
 Google, phone save me
 
 prairie dog hit/run
 lost glove, quick tea/chocolate swigs
 breathless arrival
 
 cold shower, dentist
 girls busy with chores, reading
 in the name of love
 
 but i got the pan
 for the best cheesecake ever
 for the man i love
 

Rays of Happiness

joy found in river
 dipped in snowmelt for hot days
 better than a beach
 
 no hot tub lies here
 just a circular rock wall
 perfect for chilling
 
 Colorado sun
 mixed with friends, camping, river:
 rays of happiness
 
 

Once in a…

blue moon this July
 because of this rare campout?
 old friends united 
 
 over the mountains 
 it fills sky with silver light
 it guided us home
 
 tomorrow? August
 all the stress and joy it brings
 to our small family
 
 but for now? spotlight 
 reminding of our past
 our future lit up
 
 
 

Stolen

she mentioned poem theft
 when i went to Toronto
 and i laughed and laughed
 
 would someone steal poems
 so specific to my life
 day after day… kids??
 
 would they steal this pic
 formulated by daughters’
 view of this bright world?
 
 would they steal these plates
 drying when hot water broke
 no plumber can come?
 
 would they steal our ride
 our dip in the river, creek?
 and claim it’s their poem?
 
 would they fix plumbing?
 be my man–wire phone lines?
 they couldn’t be me
 
 my poems, words, are mine
 trapped here for worldwide view
 no one would steal them
 
 

Nino’s Antiques

home: car cleaning bribe
 so i can get my work done
 and they earn their game
 
 insurance battle
 because i won’t be bullied
 by corporations
 
 i wash out bottles
 and my new/old egg beater
 from Nino’s Antiques
 
 (the shop in Gorham
 i went to as a child
 with just two pennies
 
 and Nino emerged
 with his wax-curled mustache
 and sold me his goods
 
 and this egg beater
 will remind me: he’s still there
 in my timeless town
 
 his mustache now gray
 asking my girls about school
 his PBS on
 
 selling his antiques
 for much too little money
 and chatting with kids
 
 he’s no CEO
 no insurance scam artist
 my hometown hero)
 
 

The End of Road Trip 2015

one last lunch break stop
 at the last Pony Express
 history to chew
 
 five thousand miles
 sixteen states, three Great Lakes,
 one foreign province
 
 home to our daddy
 waiting with open arms, love
 and Denver’s sunshine
 

Day Twenty-Three, Road Trip 2015

fit in a beach lunch
 before Midwest rain torrents
 that opened to blue
 
 no fast food today
 peanut butter for swim time
 best mom bargain yet
 
 ten more car hours
 we’ll sleep at home tomorrow
 in our no-lake state
 
 but we’ll have daddy
 better than any beach day
 Iowa, Maine… home
 
 

Day Twenty-One, Road Trip 2015

all ages love boats,
 skyline tower views, no waves,
 island tree climbing
 
 parks make cities nice
 waterfront, shady, crowd free
 not these skyscrapers
 
 multicolored ride
 subway, tunnel underground
 (to hide from winter)
 
 what about fresh air?
 facing the snowy cold day?
 not in Toronto
 
 for now, sun shines through
 we see commerce’s belly
 windows heaven down
 
 it’s hard to picture
 winter’s isolating freeze
 (even fruit hides here)
 
 that’s what it’s like now
 just before our trek back home
 (last time i’ll see her)
 
 in tunnels, hiding
 just like friendships wax and wane
 waiting to come back
 
 

Day Nineteen, Road Trip 2015

chilled out lake beach day
 Denver’s blue skies followed us
 a day to ourselves 
 
 camp cookouts, sailboats 
 gentle hum of mini waves
 not a soul in sight 
 
 only one thing gone:
 his arms, his love around us
 (at home he awaits)
 
 peace comes in sparkles
 small sun rays dipped in forests
 shining through the dark