Road Trip 2021, Day Three (Canandaigua Love)

words cannot describe 
how much these hills feel like home
(what was once my home)

an empty highway,
a rural life, cloudy skies
and. oh yes. this lake.

you can’t picture it.
so let me draw you a map.
my Finger Lakes love.

yes, it’s just a store.
you can only imagine
what a store could be.

Colorado born
yet half my childhood is
upstate New York bred

can you taste the plums?
fresh from the roadside farm stand 
just pop them in. wait.

you’ll be here with me.
choosing the best ears of corn. 
loving, loving life.

Versions of Home

summer camp is done.
art, yoga, cycling, love.
and home stretch? cooking.

these so-rare smiles
pouring milk for tortillas 
like happy siblings

did you say siblings?
how about our matching twins
with perfect spring rolls?

don’t forget sushi 
made with Chinese expertise
to brighten their eyes

and fufu for all
stirred by girls from two cultures
finding friends at home

these mandazi men
so proud of their puffed product
all the way from home

taco influence
on the next generation 
sharing her home’s heart

this sweet quesillo
comes from home with a sweet tale
(we’ve hit a home run)

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

"bikes for everyone"
is our summer camp motto
(if not, it should be)

what did we just learn?
first, bike vocabulary:
then, real practice

the best from today?
my daughter's helpful patience
(a prospective teacher)

at sixteen years old
learning to ride can be hard
(a kind heart can help)

childhood bullies
prevented her from riding
till my girl taught her

no award for this
no graduation medal
yet, better than gold

recent garden news:
our tenth homegrown salad meal, 
lupines, lilies, love

eighteen long months late,
we celebrate our friendship
of thirty short years

she survived COVID
now, we're both vaccinated
to celebrate love

what a perfect place
green grounds, infinity pool
for endless friendship

summer garden joys:
second of many salads
grown and cut by me

family tradition:
plant trees for graduates
and watch how they grow

my mother's tree stands
at my great-aunt's former home
taller than us all

my sister's tree shades
disappearing middle-class 
(our childhood home)

and my tree shocks me
evading the ash borer
with grandiose grace

these rare teen moments
everyone together; joy
minus jobs, school, stress

summer days beckon
drinks on rooftop patios
(mocktails for the kids)

the cold creek calls us
with shade, icy refreshment
from the sun’s harsh heat

and these cousins bond
under summer vacation 
(our home is their heart)