ten thousand stone steps
slippery at dawn, at noon
as mist never stops
ten thousand reasons
to be afraid of this hike,
yet we keep trekking
ten thousand peak views
all in different shades of light
just like our marriage
ten thousand questions
when we married at twenty
look how far we’ve come
a touch of snowfall
brings beauty to commuting
and calms my heartache
my name in Dari
made for me by my student
language: such a gift
the sound of leaf breeze
is impossible to miss
from the top? perfect
there’s just nothing like
five giddy little-teen girls
breathing us all in
our poor Daddy
outnumbered seven to one
without one complaint
so like her black cat
always calling for her needs
hoping we’ll listen
my Homecoming queens
who will never win titles
will still win with me
and what have they learned?
just how to love everyone
from all walks of life
it’s a public street
they can’t tell us we can’t park
in an unmarked zone
rich white people suck
all the joy from their mansions
and spit it elsewhere
yet, we shall obey
for we’re mere public servants
who just can’t get home
how can one measure
twenty-five minutes a day
taken from our lives?
simple math, of course:
the same numbers measure how
we teach our students
it’s a public street
and we park on our soap box
with no microphone
a weak pea harvest
(summer slips through soft moments
between camping; school)
yet the girls giggled
as they shucked their peas from pods
(no longer my peas)
summer’s soft moments
so fleetingly green and fresh
each year grown harder
the most perfect park
the most perfect afternoon
marred by words, actions
my innocent girl
who only wanted this day
not a broken mom
but it's just a blur
one day bleeds into the next
watered with defeat
what you don’t see here:
picking rhubarb in the rain
for salvation pie
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