another failed day
ends with a quiet snow walk
(just let those flakes fall)

another failed day
ends with a quiet snow walk
(just let those flakes fall)
ice-cold Tuesday night
(ice skating on a weeknight?)
icing on the cake
we must stay outside
we must wear masks, be cautious
we must learn to live
all out of the house?
all the teens out together?
all the miracles
the boy taught himself
the boy had never skated
my boy taught himself
Almost a year ago, we invited this boy home for Christmas because he was living in a youth shelter.
We brought him downtown to see this beautiful tree.
And what a year it has been. Challenging in more ways than we ever thought imaginable, and all of us adjusting to this new life of having a brother and a son in the midst of a pandemic.
Here we are, standing under these same lights. And aren’t they still beautiful?
hidden behind mask
is my sixteen-year-old girl
(her pandemic grin)
i hope to win her
with walks, drives, conversations
just like the old days
even with cold temps
flowers can burst from seedlings
sewn by human hands
walking history
in one of the oldest ‘hoods
same heartbreak, some hope
no snow day for us
but i ski between meetings
beating remote games
some glow before snow
our weekend wrapped in moments
without argument
fog dawn this morning
it won’t even really rain
just tears. and fires.
it’s not fall here yet
because climate change gifts drought
(endless heat and sun)
yet, the trees persist.
they tell us what we don’t know
with perfect colors.