Ride

how could i not see
after nearly ten years
in this house
that a four-mile pedal east
leads right into
cottonwood groves
tucked along creeks,
sweeping plains with hills
that carry me
roller-coaster style
into the wind,
and a view
on my homeward journey
contrasting the starkness
of yellow prairie
against the jagged peaks
that beckon non-natives
to call Colorado home?

how?
because i didn’t strap on
my helmet,
layer on my bike clothes,
and find the time to
chill-the-bones,
burn-the-muscles,
praise-the-beauty
ride.

A Perfect Sunday

a muddy trail, a lightweight stroller,
three girls in dresses too pretty for a hike,
the Colorado blue sky peeking out
through wisps of cottonball clouds
and views of red rocks in the forefront,
the perfect center stage to
the distant snowcapped beauties
that draw everyone to this state,
a stop for ice cream on the way home,
grilling burgers and hot dogs
for our first outdoor bugfree patio
dinner of the season,
and we have ourselves
a perfect Sunday.