our youngest driver
plowing through rain, construction
toward the great Erie
our road trips have changed
as the girls become adults
yet, they’re still the same
local food, great views,
the ever-changing weather,
seeing every state
pushed to her limit,
she managed to meet her peak,
find her inner strength
art in real life:
like a dream reimagined
for my artist girls
can you feel petals
(a digital fantasy)
falling on your face?
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
my pup, lake, camp, board:
seemingly perfect weekend
(calm before the storm)
the weather plagues me
sending wind when there was none
and stealing these views
if i could lift wings,
glide pelican-like, headfirst,
it wouldn’t matter
alas, i must walk
through all the humanoid storms
that we’ve created
"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
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
i used to write poetry
broken lines, imperfect syllables, heart
so hard so imperfect so fucking bright
like the blue sky trying to break through and taunt a hailstorm but instead instead
instead
it's just ice
not the rain we needed to cool us in a heatwave
just ice
tearing through my well-tended garden
stealing the blue sky
steeling the blue eye
and ruining me
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
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