the spotted towhee
westward shadows seek its song,
Mesa Trail decline
white prickly poppies
scrub oak and ponderosa—
the trail breathes life
today we danced
your wide smile never brighter,
your gift is patience
juniper islands
in a sea of red yard, rock —
curious black squirrel
chairs in the South Platte
we wrote haiku that hot day,
ankles in cold water
Mountain Chickadee
Lady by the Garden Gate,
this goose can only stare
stunning hilltop view
after my trail-stare ascent,
now home is downhill
dog vies for the lead
after sniffing juniper,
and now the mullein
giant maple stump
resides now in the wide space
low and lonely
on an avenue of survivors
the raven speaks dark commentary
halfway up the hill,
the neighbors’ tiger lily
bids me stop and breathe
yesterday’s cut grass
its smell remains this morning,
here in the sunshine
I bloomed so boldly—
now vulnerability
pulls hard the alarm
heady vertigo
this limb, how dare I step out,
too late, staring down
my first thought an ache
emotional charley horse,
oh too far, too far
frenzied squirrel songs
unappreciated,
haughty birders smirk
I learn compassion
from my neighbor’s loud Hip-Hop,
vengeance slowly drains
young man with a beard
swinging his arms as he walks,
blue Hawaiian shirt
in this dry climate,
the moist air from morning dew
sweet in my nostrils
long locust’s shadow
sundial like, points to the west,
streetlight casts it south
this game teaches life
shines bright light on my weakness,
through loss it nurtures
roof-angled sun slants
catches the tops of ten jets,
sprinkler sways left, right
evening beams burn
the smokey clouds billow down,
now I gasp for air
lamp light on roses
a gauntlet of sunflowers,
revolution day
deeply shadowed path
pleasant midnight temperatures,
alive after dark
squealing brake pads
overwhelm the finches, almost—
warm July breeze
white spruce gumdrops
clear morning after rain,
crow's call
Looking up
My thirty-year neighborhood
Is alive and new
Squirrels still bounce curb to curb
But shame is flat on the road
I am Gulliver
Treading the knotgrass forest
To investigate
The rampaging trumpet vine
In the lonely school courtyard
locust leaves
different shades this morning,
muted sunlight
pale lemon house
lawnmower at street’s end,
my feet on grass
raucous laughter
or is it a stern scolding—
roof squirrels
throaty ravens bark
passing, a crows tenor cry,
wind rustled Ti leaves
teach me,
to let my thick ink flow
as Joyful tears
comfort me,
on this arduous climb
to confidence
something bit the dog,
she’s chewing her hindquarter,
surprised and offended
Disgruntled, I sit
A Cessna’s bright reflection
Buzzing above
My feet on warming grass
Will earth leech my poison?
This emotion
Its slicing fin visible
but unseen below
The rows of ravenous teeth
Mounted in a grin, hunt me
Angry? Hurt?
Staring at the murky mirror
I wait for focus
Somewhere in my image
Lies the truth of my pain
empty locust tree
no squirrels this warm morning ,
i wait for peace
my inner landscape
offers endless poignant views—
poetic shutters
my bladder
hints I have overstayed,
a poet’s welcome
volcano,
cracks in a soul’s crust
magma flows
overcast
humid desert air,
waiting now
praise God!
feeling evangelical
less Mormon
prayer is new
sitting in the front yard,
fewer words
white shoes
bright orange t-shirt,
briskly walking
kisses
walking up your neck,
warmth
New attacks
I face them head on
Shame and fear
Trying to tangle my tail
Goad me into running
made me look
that chainsaw motorcycle,
breeze returns
Ridiculous
This idea that persists
Shame is unmanly
My spontaneous belly laugh
Shoos it along down the road
chickadees
surround my meditation,
edgy today
bugler
at the space force base,
his name is Scott