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).
(Re)solution
relationships
Christmas Cookies
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.
Quarantine Scenario #437
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
August Coronatine Accomplishments
oldest in college
(concurrent enrollment win)
(can remove spiders)
youngest wants hair cut
just in time for her birthday
my new career–ha!)
Anniversary Climb
this mountain’s too steep
but i know he won’t turn back
he’d never turn back
twenty-two years in
we’ve climbed many a mountain
and have won each view
Still the One (Twenty-two Years)
you can’t get this far
without climbing some mountains
oh, but the aspens.
Road Trip 2020 (Swim Me a Snake)
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.
Cilantro (Culantro)
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?
Coronatine, Day Sixty-eight (Passages)
she designed this house.
my baby girl, age thirteen.
(she loves her kitties).
she’s my crafty one.
my sweet entrepreneur.
my bright young woman.
and just like her cat
who gives unlimited love,
she will forgive me.
Coronatine, Day Sixty-one
I went to the grocery store today, and I don’t want to write about the nightmare I had last night where no one was wearing a mask.
Could you imagine, three months ago, having a nightmare about people not wearing masks in Target?
Actually, King Soopers was well-stocked today. Everyone I saw had a mask on. People at 8:30am obeyed the one-way aisle rules, and best of all? I stayed within my budget.
I made a budget for my post-work husband, starting at the beginning of May. $200 a week. It may sound extraordinarily excessive, but we’ve got six mouths to feed, and these are American prices, after all.
But I bought extras today. This bugleweed. A roll of packaging tape. And sushi because fuck Wednesday cooking.
And, my nightmares should end soon.
Because my post-work husband got a job, a non-union, non-seniority-screws-you job, doing exactly what he’s great at and wants to do forever, in the midst of a pandemic.
And.
And you can call it what you want. White privilege. True. Luck. Absolutely. Divine intervention. Maybe.
Or just… fate. The fate that led him through the Air Force to me, that led the boy to our doorstep, that led three beautiful daughters into our home, that led his previous experience to him becoming the best candidate out of all the others being laid off.
Coronatine, day sixty-one. It’s a beautiful image filled with pets, hope, and love.
And I want to hold on to this non-nightmare feeling for as long as I can.
And.
This cat was born to be a model. Good night.
