a wilting orchid
brought by an empty classroom:
symbol of my month

or this calendar
hiding (not hiding) events
never. ending. tasks.

a wilting orchid
brought by an empty classroom:
symbol of my month
or this calendar
hiding (not hiding) events
never. ending. tasks.
should have stuck with hearts
and Valentines on their doors
and kept my mouth shut
a small chance to win
with what small time we have left
these teenaged smiles
she's eighteen too soon
my oldest baby, my star
i hope she'll go far
i’ll grasp this aspen
framed by its own starry night
when i need some peace
my baby skiing
breaking my heart in these trees
(not such a baby)
she skis black diamonds
from the top of the mountain
to her mama’s soul
i'll write a haiku
as easy as this damn day
filled with lines. and love.
you will never know
how hard i've tried to earn this.
you can taste the snow.
you can taste blue sky.
it comes in moments, this love.
moments found on slopes.
powder power pulls
relentlessly through the snow
bringing us to light
not what i had planned
(before we were so broken)
yet bright, all the same
always the baker
coming up with concoctions
to sweeten our lives
snow arrived today.
soft, slippery, it snuck in
and brought back this piece:
in the purple night
on our perfect patio
completion beckons.