first view of ocean
they never want to go back
to snowy Vermont
they find ways to play
after hours of traffic
self-entertained
yet, there are strict rules
just like back home: perfection
unmatched, unwanted
just let them be kids
romp up to their ears in sand
take pleasure in filth
(if only we could
have homes and hearts like her heart
where they’d build castles)
a moment of risk
on this never ending trip
is what makes this pic
kids brimming with grins
now i sit in silent car
grateful for this time
i watch my uncle
hands in tremors–sixty-five
granddaughter in tow
age recycles us
into all we wanted here–
just a yes, a yes
drive starts with best store
candy store within the store
(we all need fill ups)
green mountain state calls
with back roads and endless views
we make our way home:
where we stand in rain
and talk like it’s been three days
(never mind three years)
while the kids recite
the spinning songs of preschool
that spun us this time
reunion’s beauty
claws at my throat, my heart.
rain can’t renew it
this trip from my dreams:
three years, three thousand miles–
six hearts in one
hanging out at home
girls play, sleep, we do yoga
easy transition
tomorrow? the drive
hubby’s new job starts at home
(i’ll make my way home)
upstate New York home
in the arms of my best friend
childhood relived
driving my mind home
we leave Kentucky for now
(could have been home)
the road takes us home
on all our travels, faces
where we find our hearts
walk across downtown
with my urban planning mom
walking rating: zilch
veggies are heavy
when carrying Kentucky
weight on both shoulders
redemptive moment
on green lake with blue kayaks
(words he’ll never read)
a campfire end
to a summer daydream trip
(only innocence)
full circle i’ve turned
since five years back, her birth year
(my first niece. cousins)
but he won’t see that.
only weakness bearing down
on our bright union
love like this? just once.
with dark swings on late porches
he can’t even touch
but for her bright eyes
the firelit sunset eve
forgiveness follows.
one last garden stop
hard to say if we’ll be back
beaches, lakes… await
a secret rope swing
hidden behind leafy steps
splash into heaven
picture with Pappy
grandchildren nearly grown up
only photos last
the force of magic
light from cousin to cousin
summer bright as night
a freshwater lake
found from memory; a hike
better baptism
childhood relived
through my daughters’ newfound strokes
saltlessly sweet taste
coves around corners
wind-whipped waves licking the shore
new memories made
sunrise wake up call
to start farmland forest view
save me from the drive
kids sleep, eat, play, grin
laugh with their pit-stop cousins
sunset goodnight view
all America
lies between the road and sun
the love for travel
four weeks: iced mocha
from his teacher’s salary
to my starving morn
one more disruption
to make my students argue
(entitlements rule)
his blue-eyed gesture
almost makes the sacrifice
worth the sinking sun
he knows and i know
that he can’t buy my return;
best or not–i’m gone
no blue eyes at home
(from my man or anyone)
on my girls’ faces
nor a mocha bribe
for the heart-winning teacher.
cynic? true. best? yes.
no film, court judges,
observers, department heads
are worth this money
’cause money can’t buy
another summer soon lost
in a blue-eyed search
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