dock spider, mud, fish;
a small hardwood forest hike
to a man-made lake
you can feel the joy
seeping through this perfect view
of nature, reborn
lakes are in my blood.
i learned to swim in one
and love nothing more
through Cumberland Gap
we drive down to Tennessee
and stand in three states
it’s been many years
(the gap between visits here)
and everything’s changed
Pappy’s room is new
with the antique furniture
from their grandparents
a whole new kitchen
to fill Donna’s empty nest
with the light of love
this generation
will take the time to teach them
and fill in the gaps
they’ll learn who came first,
what they fought for, what they lost;
close gaps, open eyes
Kentucky River
holds the morning cliff paddle
(limestone for horses)
you can’t find this view
west of the Mississippi
(where it’s drought, drought, dry)
here? just paddling
along the river, the creek
till you find yourself
you might find turtles
(soft shells, even, a bonus)
as you move along
just like the sliders
they slip into the water
hoping for the best
Kentucky has coal
but also cool rainforests
(midsummer cooldowns)
enough rain will fall
in two days to flood a creek
drunk by my puppy
water is the life
that sustains these roadside farms
its blood for our blood
tractors welcome here
along these hilly horse farms
(barns worth more than homes)
you’ll rarely pass cars
as you meander back roads
in this life cycle
you might find castles
hidden in the morning mist
waiting to fill you
locally grown food
waiting at a king’s table
between life cycles
don’t let the rain win
it’s a porch-swing afternoon
filling this cycle
i can’t capture this:
the words, the joy, the city
it’s all in this swing
i can’t capture them
filled with adolescent angst
yet so forgiving
a summer road trip
(there’s not without one)
they live it, breathe it
i can’t capture stress
it won’t fit in this market
nor on this road home
the sound of leaf breeze
is impossible to miss
from the top? perfect
there’s just nothing like
five giddy little-teen girls
breathing us all in
our poor Daddy
outnumbered seven to one
without one complaint
handmade arts and crafts
working their way through college
the way it should be
artisans, trees:
intertwine their native souls
to make Earth special
the sun follows us
across six midwestern states
and lights these fires
firecrackers rule
the soft sunset in the hills
of Kentucky
we discover shade
from the afternoon fire
with native trees; food
no high gas prices
can stop this reunion’s joy
after five weeks gone
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