because it’s Monday
the alarm sucks, kids are bored,
and fall won’t happen–
the classroom burns hot
from a boiler turned on
two weeks too early
and everyone thinks
it’s a holiday today,
so here i sit. wait
at the Jiffy Lube
with the rest of the world
panning for oil.
this is white privilege.
this is American life.
black gold that burns all.
seasons
RelaxiCat
a kitten in lap
as autumn weather sets in:
better than the beach
Falling in Love
autumnal offer:
a windy, sunny lunch stroll
in my favorite park
Seasonal Cat Disorder
a sweet striped tabby
named Snickers in October
brings joy to autumn
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.
Turning Ten
weekend of parties
(double digits come just once)
baby’s growing up
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)
Eighteen Years as Us
Numbers for our weekend: Bruce turned 39, our marriage turned 18, we hiked 25 miles, gained 4520 feet in elevation, endured 100 or more stream crossings, 4 thunderstorms, 50 fallen trees, and carried 80 pounds of food, equipment, and water. We reached our limit halfway through yesterday, but marriage is continuous–we chose the loop trail just like we chose each other 18 years ago. And we’ll keep hiking, helping each other cross streams, build shelters, cook meals, and climb mountains, till the last limit of our lives. Happy anniversary!
Backpacker’s Dream/Dilemma
we strike the trail late
met by an abundant blue
(clouds can keep secrets)
lunch is disrupted
by stream-crossing detours
(till we see our fault)
then comes rain and pain
realizing we were tricked
(the trail is longer)
camp set up quickly
dinner wolfed, shoes soaked by grass
(thunder moving in)
hours in the tent
thinking, how could it, why now?
(tests of our marriage)
but the bag is warm
and we have love and shelter
(all a marriage needs)
For Your 39th: Solitude
celebrating us
with a long walk in the woods
(away from it all)
silence is golden
when resting feet at sunset
(your birthday present)
the breeze reminds me:
i drove twenty-one hours
to find this beauty
better than the beach:
that grin on your face; these views;
hard-earned sore muscles
thank you for crazy–
(the long drive, the longer walk,
another “us” year)
Step Write Up 