what’s more beautiful—
this red, water-begging dawn
or my daughter’s grin?


each touched by showers
so desperate to soothe our souls
from this hellfire

what’s more beautiful—
this red, water-begging dawn
or my daughter’s grin?


each touched by showers
so desperate to soothe our souls
from this hellfire

her exact words are:
“he hit the jackpot with you.”
(so far from the truth).

his exact words are:
“¿Porque Ud. lloraba?”
so polite. always.

we’re taking this risk
because it’s what we both love
and without love, what?

Zoom meeting hell day
computers that will not work
need zucchini love


Zoom meetings drain me
but how sweet these tomatoes
and basil, with love

you can’t get this far
without climbing some mountains
oh, but the aspens.


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
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.

a small victory
using my hands to plant peas
as they fought spring snow

as they outgrew me
using my hands to pick peas
during quarantine


they made two harvests
using my hands to shell peas
a small victory


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?