she may look little
but like me she’s tough as nails
despite your warnings
she knows what she wants–
we drove three thousand miles
to snorkel today
yes, she’ll face high swells
and stay within my arm’s reach
but she won’t give up.
never doubt my girls.
there’s too much of me in them
and we’re warriors.
we pick up lizards
and make millipedes our pets
and chase iguanas
we make our dreams true
with each setting sun, moon rise
–doesn’t matter where.
swampy, buggy night
before a hot toll road drive
leads to paradise
tree-lined streets adieu
NOLA saved for memories
as we meet the dawn
Pensacola Beach:
a hot disappointment rests
behind Blue Angels
but once the sky clears
the clear water saves the day
before sea-bridge drive
our Florida lesson:
aim for blue skies, check schedules,
and fly for our dreams
midnight thunder struck
after opossums purred by
searching us for peace
these were our night sounds,
cicadas’ long lullaby
and small waves lapping
the rain drove us here
across state lines new to us
with new warning signs
bridge that cut through glass
brought us to the lost city
found again by sun
new sounds now rock us
of saxophones and jazz clubs
that purr by for peace
all in a day’s work:
a touch of nature, people;
all in the journey
dawn painted this view
with a crimson feathered brush
shaped from god’s fingers
interrupted drive
on solitary farm roads
brings peace and worry
fresh peaches save us,
and hand picked Texas peanuts–
bag reads: God bless you
red dirt gets seeded
turning desert land to food
to feed our hot drive
at last, a forest:
lodgepole and endless lake
to wash off the dust
teary pet goodbye
gives way to mountains and plains
peppered by gray sky
storms hover past us
as curvy roads snake Texas
with speeds much too high
we drive till sunset,
kiss the red canyon good night,
find our hobbit hole
eight miles of views
captured between bickering
parenting is hard
night still and windless
quakeless aspen leaves above
as you make me quake
they’ve asked to return
every year on the same date
hoping for magic
(it’s found in sunsets,
impossible mountain views
we don’t have at home)
i would give them gold
that rests at mountain bases
if i had god’s touch
i’d throw in rainbows,
the best birth town visit yet,
Colorado love
we could come back here–
try to capture this bright view–
or keep it with us
Always.
all is washed away
with silhouettes over sand
in a summer storm
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