August 31, 2020

when weariness
is indistinguishable from grief —
willow trees bent low


August 30, 2020

imagining
the mud has healing powers
we learn from our boy


August 29, 2020

with every day
a little more grapevine
a little less tree


August 28, 2020

gone-to-seed grass
tickling her palm as she passes
summer’s handshake


August 27, 2020

trickling in
as the birds dry off
today’s dawn chorus


August 26, 2020

cycling home
to the cheers of my neighbors
so much closer now


August 25, 2020

bandages and water 
protesters go on a run
for supplies


August 24, 2020

every downhill path
now slick with fresh mud
we grab for each other


August 23, 2020

just the one rain cloud
we take cover together
her smile my sun


August 22, 2020

August 21, 2020

acorns underfoot
the squirrels so busy
with forgetting


August 20, 2020

afternoon ravens
tucked into shadowed nooks
their black eyes watching


August 19, 2020

scanning the treetops
for a bird whose song I know
anniversary


August 18, 2020

August 17, 2020

cloud-crowded skies
no sign of the Perseids
I wish on a memory


August 16, 2020

loon songs
an echo of freedom
we take turns crying


August 15, 2020

the ides of August
grasshoppers punching through
to cooler air


August 14, 2020

mid-summer sun
the front yard bunny
forgets to be afraid


August 13, 2020

cosmos and ironweed
sharing their corner of sun
we chose well, you and I


August 12, 2020

great blue heron
still point around which
the Earth revolves


August 11, 2020

tasting my own salt
as the heat wave shimmers
meadowlarks singing


August 10, 2020

last after-eight sunset —
let’s drive to the reservoir
and skinny dip


August 09, 2020

spending long days
in search of shade and shelter —
survival instincts



August 08, 2020

we give up looking
and discover just how much
we were in our way



August 07, 2020

August 06, 2020

goldfinches in flight
their calls like laughter
brighter by the day



August 05, 2020

pandemic stories —
my throat sore from yelling
past the mask


August 04, 2020

hiding in plain sight —
a green heron in the reeds
my father’s alcoholism



August 03, 2020

darker sky ahead

we travel in the same direction

as the storm



August 02, 2020

noisy neighbors

I float a lullaby

over the fence



August 01, 2020

twenty twenty —

a year's worth of photos

me with my eyes closed



July 31, 2020

all the questions

seem like good ones now —

starlings by the treeful



July 30, 2020

house sparrows

side by side in a shadow —

no secrets stay kept



July 29, 2020

when we’re apart

my mind fills in your voice —

come closer, will you?



July 28, 2020

dark sky, black branches —

the screech owl lets us know

she was here first



July 27, 2020

lingering heat

like a weighted blanket —

only the birds move



July 26, 2020

when the land we stand on

has only ever been stolen —

where does freedom live?



July 25, 2020

rudbeckia seeds

last season’s supernova —

we make our own light


July 24, 2020

July 23, 2020

July 22, 2020

thunder’s slow growl —

the trees turn their backs

thirsty but proud



July 21, 2020

hoagies for dinner —

no one left to ask me

how long a roll I want



July 20, 2020

sun-saturated

goldfinches above the field

flexing level changes



July 19, 2020

after the climb

the view of the long valley

and the next hill



July 18, 2020

maybe a tulip bed?

we cast our lines

into the future



July 17, 2020

settling in at dusk

heedless of their pull on us —

red-tailed hawks



July 16, 2020

a doe and her fawns —

she picks through the gardens

explaining choices



July 15, 2020

great blue heron

casually flaunting its prowess

on one leg



July 14, 2020

clouds and their shadows —

I feel your feelings

over here



July 13, 2020

Eastern Kingbird

snatching her meal from the air

with dizzying ease



July 12, 2020

fireflies and lovers

lighting the way

for each other



July 11, 2020

apple pancakes —

I make my father’s specialty

for my son



July 10, 2020

air like a damp towel —

the storm pulls up a chair

and decides to stay



July 09, 2020

uprooting

the last of the poison ivy —

we think ahead to fall



July 08, 2020

tree swallows —

swooping back in wide circles

just because they can



July 07, 2020

drifting downriver

my hand dangling overboard —

summer lets down her hair



July 06, 2020

knowing from the song

just who’s come to call —

red-winged blackbird



July 05, 2020

forged in fire —

the familiar feeling

of fighting back hope



July 04, 2020

statues coming down

as fireworks explode —

sparks in search of fuel



July 03, 2020

aspen leaves

toying with the wind —

my fingers in her hair



July 02, 2020

grandmothers and toddlers

walking in sun-warmed water —

the bay at low tide



July 01, 2020

June 30, 2020

every strawberry

bright with the memory

of picking with my mom



June 29, 2020

drumming rain

and streams being born —

close the workhouse



June 28, 2020

a space in the tree

where the baby robins were —

four new stories



June 27, 2020

missing the feeling

of flip turns in the pool —

pandemic summer



June 26, 2020

waiting all day

for a chance to stand tall —

nicotiana



June 25, 2020

every day

the nest gets smaller —

fledgling robins



June 24, 2020

your old letters —

knowing what they say

without looking



June 23, 2020

my neighbor’s garden —

the yarrow I wish I’d planted

in my own





June 22, 2020

standing stems

where there were flowers —

the deer have found us



June 21, 2020

first day of summer —

the mosquito’s engine

starts right up



June 20, 2020

summer solstice —

avoiding the rain

that never came



June 19, 2020

azalea petals

fallen now so we can spot

last year’s nest



June 18, 2020

bright green forest floor —

deep enough to swim in

or drown



June 17, 2020

tell me the story

of how we rescue each other —

self-seeding primrose



June 16, 2020

floating just above

stands of tall abandoned grass —

fireflies



June 15, 2020

bedtime —

all the bugs that snuck inside

trying to get out



June 14, 2020

there was a hill road

to use if I ran away —

I never needed it



June 13, 2020

evening primrose —

self-seeding protests

spring up



June 12, 2020

June 11, 2020

before you

there was this longing —

wind that brings the rain



June 10, 2020

midday heat —
the nesting robin and I
going nowhere


June 09, 2020

wind in the leaves
down here at street level, too —
we’re setting our sails


June 08, 2020

open windows —
birdsong hitching a ride
on the cross breeze


June 07, 2020

Black Mothers Rising
lead us in meditation
honeysuckle in the air


June 06, 2020

homemade protest signs
woven into the fence —
words still doing work


June 05, 2020

full moon in rain —
I imagine the gratitude
of just-planted flowers


June 04, 2020

our nearly grown boy
teaches himself to juggle —
a wistful moon looks on


June 03, 2020

the pause just before
she remembers she can fly —
fledgling robin


June 02, 2020

bending the long grass
as she turns in a circle —
the doe at dusk


June 01, 2020

impenetrable —
doghobble’s arching branches
rooting at the tips


May 31, 2020

attacking the ivy
before it gets to the house —
roots too deep to dig


May 30, 2020

cedar waxwings
and the berries they love —
anything to look up


May 29, 2020

I kneel on the ground
to cheer on my seedlings —
four tiny leaves each


May 28, 2020

our front yard bunny
delicately mowing down
a line of clover


May 27, 2020

just two days of work
and the new nest is ready —
robins at our door


May 26, 2020

everyday grief —
stars that grow brighter
as we look away


May 25, 2020

dead tree —
a warbler on a high branch
sings in the sun