i'll write a haiku
as easy as this damn day
filled with lines. and love.
you will never know
how hard i've tried to earn this.
you can taste the snow.
you can taste blue sky.
it comes in moments, this love.
moments found on slopes.
ironic notice
as the words come flooding in
(yet i can’t stop them)
no. i had no plan.
no plan for any of this.
(nor a solution).
he’s no idea
what he’s got himself into
with these crazy girls
cookies are cookies.
we will cut, bake, decorate.
’cause it’s what we do.
arms, metal, ginger:
what is a holiday scent?
molasses. that’s it.
and soft-spun sugar
ready to perfect Christmas
with gingerbread sweets.
motherhood snippets:
a brilliant purple houseplant
captured in glory
molé for the win?
another failed recipe
to exhaust my soul
oh, but the chocolate
hidden behind the bright beads
of sesame seeds
her anxiety
so present, prescient, painful
and i cannot win
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
arriving today:
my kids who text me daily
my kids, yes, my kids
did she read my words?
did she see what i just wrote?
alas, i’m tired
i want to see them
just as he does, biking there
in the midst of lunch
seeing their faces,
having a conversation
without this damn screen
they are my world
even if they hate me now
(these teen years will pass)
oldest in college
(concurrent enrollment win)
(can remove spiders)
youngest wants hair cut
just in time for her birthday
my new career–ha!)
the river’s icy
the current is too strong, son
but no one stops us
i can never look
without wanting to dive in
to fully swim. live.
they get this from me.
these kids who are not my kids.
these kids who are mine.
we swim for ice cream.
for these fleeting memories.
for their childhoods.
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
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