The Cyclist’s Dilemma

he will not forgive
shuns me in once warm places
i will not forget

in tears, she begs me
just get them started–i can’t–
grief bursts into halls

all papers graded
i read Spanish in silence
wait for final bell

a windy walk home
trailed by one-car dilemma
my cyclist shines

headlamp, gloves ready
January? my mistress
cycle through my stress

my peace offering:
the book he wanted to read
(he puts me on stage)

humiliate me?
i crave the Spanish smiles
he doesn’t know me

a windy ride home
cold clings to my clothes with hugs
cheeks on girls’ warm cheeks

this brief moment here
is all i’ve seen them today
my cycle spins on

Climate Change

winter rollerblades
spray-bottle paths formed by girls
with no snow in sight

a sunny walk home
January thaws… nothing
worried hidden joy

oh but their smiles!
the earth is dying, but them?
they’re just having fun

i skate after them
till the sun escapes the day
tuck sorrow to bed

we all have our paths
formed by small hands and big hearts
climate changes us

Marade

small signs and short legs
blue sky memories of faith
some fear is slipping

but in children’s eyes:
perfect for play and joy
humanity’s rainbow

if we could all climb
to the top of the goal post
his dream would come true

not just a Marade
a gathering of lost souls
hoping for what’s right

with their eyes, see it:
the world he wanted. Here.
not a shot fired.

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Catch Me a Moon

before dawn, i walk
full moon of icy danger
to be there for them

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classroom lit, open
first day, students new to me
i set standards high

phones, backtalk, shouting
first impression resistance
shake me to my core

after school begging
for schedule changes, fallbacks
they hate and love me

i missed my girls’ smiles
their good-morning kisses, hugs
to face this chaos?

slushy post-school walk
to their bright eyes, warm faces
lost in built-up play

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then, online ranting
plagiarizing grown student
demanding grade change

why you, and not them?
the question of my moon day
please… catch me a moon

make it bright like them
shining beyond snowy morn
lighting, guiding love

Enjoy Them

new year, back to work
meetings, trainings, pointless tests
(testing our patience)

no students today
semi-empty corridors
echo their absence

new resolutions
data, observations, goals
flood the teachers’ souls

i walk my mile home
with two six packs; ignore looks
(a friend’s thank-you gift)

girls are jubilant
a day alone with daddy
bright as this sunset:

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Cry Babies

realization:
i’m halfway through motherhood
(though it never ends)

ten-year-old letter
brought me back to those first days
late-night crying babes

but ten years from now?
they’ll all be out of the house
i’ll cry, my babies

when i open it
will my heart be sad, or lost
or, at best, hopeful?

will i be relieved
to think of my youngest girl
sitting in my lap?

or devastated
because she no longer will?
oh how i love them

but i’m halfway through
they’re better skiers than me
(and everything else)

no more crying babes
just the lust for lost moments
that hurt us then, now

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Planning. To Not Plan.

what secrets are found
in twenty years of letters?
and what dreams will come?

at sixteen, desperate
first love turmoil, heart crushed
i lived for friends, love

at twenty-six, scared
new baby, husband’s lost job
i lived on blind faith

now, thirty-six,
my life begins to balance
career, family… home??

sleep in which bed, house?
on which continent–east, west?
in whose arms–mine, his?

the letter will tell
my thirty-six-year-old goals
where my heart beats now

but heartbeats have wings
my girls will be all grown up
the world will change

i hope to keep up
with the childlike soul i dreamt
as a young lovebird

while at the same time
accepting life’s challenges
and… i can’t plan them

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Bask. Basque.

Cartagena blues
teasing me with memories
soldier guarding life

here i am, snowbound
(silent beauty winter)
biting cold, warm home

i could take this pic
right there next to that palm tree
basque in Spain sun

but i am here now
family on every corner
tongue out for snowflakes

tasted continents
on either side of the sea
and i am home now

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Write of Passage

our boots squeak with snow
light as sparkling feathers
quiet city streets

middle one agrees
to traipse in winter beauty
so much like her mom

this brings me to peace
from sleepless, sorrowful nights
my words lost, then found

like our snowy prints
only seen from right behind
otherwise ignored

my most precious gift
recorded for all my life
despised by loved ones

perhaps she will walk
behind my wordy footsteps
her write to escape

for now, quiet snow
i accept what i can’t change
and keep on writing

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White Christmas

her comments swallowed
like the Christmas morn semen
cranberry juice, please

i’m not defensive
just wish for white Christmases
like everyone else

i can win this game
Cards Against Humanity
with my best haiku

five girls are sleeping
in my parents’ bungalow
i love my city

my favorite movie
It’s a Wonderful Life, YES!!
live and Live and LIVE!!!!

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