You were the baby who squeaked
                                               when I picked you up ~ the one
                                               who did not want to be held ~
                                               I learned early on to put you back
                                               in your crib and let you hold yourself.

                                                         ~ for Anna Cooper Bagby, MD
                                                           on the occasion of your graduation
                                                           from Family Practice Residency,
                                                           Fort Collins, Colorado

Colorado Hail

pelts
the pines
and
floribundas
outside our airbnb.

I run
to see if
it really is ice ~
opaque beauty
falling from a June
sky.

Lying
on the concrete
are dozens
of tiny frozen spheres
perfectly smooth,
knocked off their orbit,
still shining
their own light.

I pick them up
one by one.

Watch as my
open
hand
warms
them
to a milky
puddle.