everyone swimming
a clear Colorado lake
an afternoon storm



camping is simple
with tents, paddle boards, tables
and yet so complex



everyone swimming
a clear Colorado lake
an afternoon storm



camping is simple
with tents, paddle boards, tables
and yet so complex



even with the wind
we’ve mastered outdoor spaces
and earned this sunset




our homemade pizza
with veggies from the garden
(love summer weekends)


these summer rainstorms
bring breezy joy to hot days
(save us from the drought)
my former student
once a refugee herself
now teaches me hope

making me these masks
so i can mouth English words
as when i taught her
of little promise
this underdeveloped root
(thought i’d just get blooms)


but underground joy
arrives when you keep digging
to find the rainbow



dawn clouds framing trees
parmesan zucchini, please
(sunlit expertise)


sunflowers, carrots
zucchini ready to burst
bring it on, summer



seltzer, zucchini,
cosmos invading background
what else says July?
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.

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.


a roaring river
inaptly named Stillwater
brightens my morning


a glamping cabin
ends a drive past mountains, lakes
heaven, Montana


