eighteen long months late,
we celebrate our friendship
of thirty short years

she survived COVID
now, we're both vaccinated
to celebrate love

what a perfect place
green grounds, infinity pool
for endless friendship

eighteen long months late,
we celebrate our friendship
of thirty short years

she survived COVID
now, we're both vaccinated
to celebrate love

what a perfect place
green grounds, infinity pool
for endless friendship

summer garden joys:
second of many salads
grown and cut by me

thank you for the “no.”
as phallic as this lupine
(allium ignored)

i will learn from this
(things i tell myself at night)
and grow a sagebrush

it will bloom purple
(you can’t see my true color)
and you can’t taste it

yet, here it blossoms
as beautiful as the home
you constantly loathe

i know. i know. i…
you don’t see what i see. stop.
but god. how it hurts.

an eight-mile walk
through Colorado’s beauty
even before blooms



the mountains call us
with their peak views, quaking aspens
(listen for the call)



i’ve tried hard for grins
as hard as they are to earn
(teen reality)

the garden goes on
far into September nights
when i make salsa


and another quiche
made by my girl while canning
consumed my evening

instructions, really?
i’ll pour it into a pan
and hope for the best

zucchini: the best.
it will make anything work
(yes, like my husband)

can you imagine?
finding this at age nineteen?
this gem of a love?


why, yes, that’s a bloom
after a summer snowstorm
they both still love me

from smoky skies to ice
all the devil’s handiwork
(Earth in humans’ grip)

after the sun sets
stars put on their midnight show
in dark sky country

