always find water.
brings relief to a hot hike
or just a hot day.
i will hike alone
well my puppy comes, of course
we seek alpine lakes
yet i must admit
this elevation gain kills
forty-something legs
but when the lake shines
on my ever-happy pup
it is so worth it
he didn’t want to
(more rejection in my life)
still, he packed his bag
he doesn’t smile
it’s hard to tell what he wants
but it could be worse
and here’s our sunset
framed by glorious aspens,
soft breezes of love
garden donations:
(nice to have gardening friends
who offer seeds, plants)
why yes, i bake things
(zucchini things in summer)
feels like Hell’s Kitchen
my oven burned me
burned us all with its heat spread
well, not anymore
that’s right, baby:
a 9×13 glass dish,
two 8-inch cake pans
this Breville will hold
a 12-inch cast iron pan
without burning us
worth every penny
(it’s not even Christmas yet)
boy am i ready
sometimes i think: Hell.
twenty days of solid heat.
(Denver in summer)
and then i recall
our glorious altitude
and misty mornings
i will swim for views
only captured here at home
(Denver forever)
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
if only these were clouds
not fucking with my haiku syllable count
but actually pouring down rain instead of smoke
if only we didn’t have cactus along the Front Range
to remind us of
how harshly we’ve parched this Earth
how we’ve stolen the sky with fires
how these are not clouds trying to hide
the ever-present sun
water still as ice
while wildfires choke sky
with climate change breath
oldest in college
(concurrent enrollment win)
(can remove spiders)
youngest wants hair cut
just in time for her birthday
my new career–ha!)
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