Posts for June 25, 2021



It’s my fifth night away from home,
And my first night feeling it.
Up til now it’s been nothing but freedom
And enough good times to last forever.
But tonight it was slightly muted,
Smiles were strained
and laughs were forced.
This new place I’ve found 
with all these new people
has been my home the last five days,
so why is it suddenly not enough?
I just want to be a part 
of both places at once-
because I don’t want to leave,
but I want to go home.


Gas Station

my great aunt and I 
would go fishing 
every Saturday morning
because she didn’t know
how else to fix a boy 
who didn’t know what
was so wrong 
we’d stop at this new place
that had a diner built on the side
we’d eat breakfast in a booth
preparing for a day of fishing
with a lunch of Vienna Sausage
smashed between two Zesta crackers

I never really wanted to go
and sit out in the heat 
for hours and hours and hours
but I did it anyways
because I had nothing better
to do

I wish
I could sit across
from her in those 
particle board booths
with the morning fog
pressing against the windows
Travis Tritt playing 
from a speaker above us
and tell her that she was
probably the best one
out of all of them


i am me

friends jump at the chance to say that i’m kind and sweet
enemies would say that i’m trusting, promiscuous and can be mean
pets would probably say i’m the best they’ll ever meet
family will say i’m responsible and easy to please 
strangers would say my face looks elven, interesting to spot in a street

and what would i say when asked about me?
frankly, i’d say all of those things
and i’m not upset about them
not even the sayings of my enemies
i am who i am, and i am me


My Urban Just Ain’t Urban Anymore (A Pattern Language, Number 59)

“If a number of these walks are connected, one to another, then slowly, there emerges a ribbon-like system of tiny backs, pleasant alleyways behind the commotion of the street.”

                   ~Christopher Alexander


He called.

I said I’d be there in ten,

turned left to shortwalk through the alleys

and hit a brand new iron gate.

The gate was locked.


And then there was another one.

And then another.

And another.



forty minutes later

when I finally arrived

all of them were laughing:

“We wondered when you’d get here

now that they’ve privatized your city

and stolen your and our and Mr. Alexander’s

quiet backs.”


Aravaipa Canyon

Three days’ drinking water
in plastic jugs dug into me
beneath the backpack’s straps and belt.
We had to carry it because
herds of cattle graze Sonoran tableland
within the canyon watershed.

It would be three days,
out from West Trailhead
and back. Strong or
destination hikers can take
8-10 hours to do the whole 12.25 miles
of the Wilderness. Not me,
as by then you understood
from our first time trekking,
birding, photographing flowers
through Colorado meadows
up to the tundra’s cairns.

Sycamore, ash, cottonwood, willow
grew alongside Aravaipa Creek 
then, above it, cholla, saguaro, prickly pear.

Creek pebbles in my sneakers
hurt too much off and on;
slogging was the only way.

But I would still go back there
for the chance to see how daybreak
etches into the desert sandstone rim
the wheat red color of your hair.


Snow Spring

April morning 
snow kissed
spring buds
Soft lavender 
covered with pure white

Wee sweet pea blossoms 
Frosted flowers
shades of blush
explode overnight 
until fall

Redbuds, crabapples 
unfold in early spring
Brushed white blush
fades as blossoms age 
to a deep rose

Western vivid
heart shaped green leaf
changes to multi-colored purple,
blue gold in fall
 in winter

Spring apple blooms coral 
Buds grow in clusters
Bartlett pears
leaf lime 
covered with creamy ivory

Fall cedars flocked
not for a Holiday
with soft snowfall
Just spring 
in the Mountains


Same Chapter, Different Page

Another tragic love story

Two people madly in love

Same book, same chapter,

But not on the same page

Years of memories

Praying to never be strangers

We say “one day”

As weeks pass by

We love like no other

We dance like no one is watching

We laugh like we have all the oxygen

In the world

We kiss like it’s our last

One day I hope I’m reading this at our wedding

But you know me,

I hate society

I don’t want to get married

So I’ll read this at our ceremony

Where we don’t need papers

To prove our love

We don’t need a witness

To see our emotions

Just you and me

Engaged forever

Like that episode

From Grace and Frankie


“should have” is a pretty phrase

what I could’ve done
what you promised me 
what your words painted


It could’ve been.

It should’ve been.

It couldn’t be.


what a shame
what never worked
was what doomed us both


The Eyes Have It

Jaguar gold
deep ocean blue
very very green
blue w/silver sparklers
like the big plant in my front hall
brown w/amber speckles
grey-blue fading
falls in love with all of them

Above the paper blue surgical masks
all the doctor sees
meets their gaze 

Ready to tango 



thinking about when you wrote me a poem

& i knew you didn’t write poetry
like me; & i had told you
goodnight, but after i drifted
under the covers, you sent me
the words that your brain had spun
up; & in the morning, i was gifted
with the image of you looking
in my eyes like an ancient god;
& i miss all

the words you ever said to me; & i wonder

if you ever get lonely at night
like me