you can’t get this far
without climbing some mountains
oh, but the aspens.


you can’t get this far
without climbing some mountains
oh, but the aspens.


we’re home now. screen time.
i want to keep the rainbow.
the perfect sunset pic.


the lake moon rising.
the soothing sound of tent rain.
just being. outside.



please shout, “On your left!”
while passing pedestrians
(also cyclists)

i know that you can.
don’t pass me as i pass peds
(don’t be an assbike)
a hike can’t save us.
the heat seems to want us dead.
but the masks? yes. yes.

all the Boulderites.
they get it. even on trails.
why is it so hard?

you could have this view.
away from the pandemic.
if you’d just listen.

he corrected me
even though it’s in Spanish
white buds. so pretty.

‘no’ is a new word
yet so familiar to me.
so adolescent.

we’ll see where this goes.
a flat road to nowhere fast?
or the sky, endless?
a lazy lake day
calmer than a quarantine
peace (so far from peace).



along a river
this fairy tale ferry stop
has stood a beacon




in muddy waters
kids get to be kids all day
while mamas paddle


nature is our home
found in Kentucky fire
lit by desire



there is no escape here.
only evasion.
it’s up this curvy road packed with hill after horse-country hill,
packed with perfect fences and horses whipping their tails,
with cars zooming past, some honking at my hugging-the-shoulder presence as i pedal
pedal
pedal
past these race-won mansions,
these stacked-limestone walls that can’t trap me in or out,
into the sunny, humid heat of midday Kentucky,
so far from home, so far from home,
so near to everything that is hard and easy, up and down these endless hills
in a circle that isn’t a circle.



a creek paddle day
brings every boat together
for swimming and grins




Kentucky cycles:
you can find happiness in
rolling hills, horse farms


