leftover sunshine

still warming the back of my neck —

last day of June

unwinding ivy

from a half-choked spirea —

her hair after braids

unwinding ivy

from a half-choked spirea —

her hair after braids

But I just got here!

(my father’s words when the nurse

brought me out to him)

after our walk

fireflies still signaling —

even in dreams

we walk barefoot

so our toes, at least, are cool —

fireflies drifting up

(for J.D.)

gone-to-seed grass
tipped with the first sun in days —
when I make her laugh

anklets of itch

where fleas jumped up to —

summer memory

just the two of us

building chords out of echoes —

private hotel pool

solstice fawn still

where her mother said to wait —

I mow half the lawn

June three-quarter moon —

so bright we think we can see

still longer days ahead

mid June

each day a little longer  —

babies learning to smile

last days of high school —

the flowers we just planted

beaten down by rain

wading through

creeks that appeared just today —

Father’s Day

last season’s bulbs

in garden holes we dug today —

sweet like picture books

each hop

a little higher than the last —

eaglets learn to fly

seven years later

once I’d forgotten to hope —

magnolia blossoms

understudy —

hydrangea filling in

for the tree that fell

our boy brags

that his parents don’t fight —

we take turns smiling

piercing dawn —

the eagle consumes the world

just by looking

this year’s goslings

still fuzzy around the edges —

spring dance at the middle school

seeing the fox,

I feel my heart tick up a beat —

even in memory

windy summer day —

I hear my father saying

the backs of the leaves mean rain

someone else’s jokes

remind our boy of grandpa —

almost Father’s Day

(h/t @LittleOnion)

honeysuckle

at the back of my throat —

another dad story

we spend all morning

beating back bamboo he planted —

inheritance tax

we see

what we are looking for —

Pride month

lake’s edge —

blue herons tiptoeing through

the space between clouds

young love —

trying to follow the barn swallows

as they dip and glide

a flash of blue

crisply edged in white

as the jay takes off

nodding peonies —

I reach for your hand

and they approve