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

pandemic lap lane —
long hair waving
like seaweed


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

thistles swaying
under the weight
of goldfinches


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

flickering
in the bamboo leaves —
heat lightning



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