“But all the magic I have known
I’ve had to make myself.” – Shel Silverstein
i’ve had to lace up
many a pair of shoes
with holes in the toes
lilac purple stains
on both sides
on days i’ve needed magic
(quartz, &poppy face guaranteed)
i’ve got shoes
i’m not afraid of getting hole-y
so if you’re not afraid too,
in your shoe,
– i know because i’ve seen
old dogs on hind legs drinking
from the old silver horse trough
sparkling with rainwater
playing it again for RT
She is my daughter of adventure…not of brevity!
Mackenzie has journaled (or should I say catalogued) her first week abroad on her bloggy
Pop over if you’d like!
It’s up to you daughter. The sandal’s
on your foot now. I’ve been trying to
forget myself you know, but this
sanctimonious jangle of time keeps
getting stuck in my stomach
sending me back to that bend in the
Gunnison River, my bike transport
thrown down in a fit on the embankment.
A ridiculous book loaner in my hand,
a younger me perched on a rock
trying to figure out how to live a snake-
bitten lifestyle, despite my higher
calling to sunshine & writing glimmers of it
down. But back to you daughter. Please be un-
reasonable. It’s your decision to make.
This privilege will mean the most to you,
and these parts will unequivocally be
for Mackenzie & submitted to Poets Pantry
“…if you could teach your soul to speak”
Not that I’d know firsthand. But
you might want to bring a raincoat.
It’s probably green for a reason.
And hey, you might want to take
a flashlight that doubles as a
lantern, which also doubles as a
blunt weapon. I’ve checked. They
don’t allow tasers in checked baggage
or carry-on. Promise you’ll take a
couple of warm fuzzy jackets. Upfront
you won’t know another soul, and who
knows what a Wellington Winter is like?
You might have taken us too. But you won’t
gain a lick of independence that way,
so take our Go-Pro from the desk in our
bedroom. Just go, and break in your new
hiking boots, – their lovely blue spell
shell shuffling their way through Middle Earth.
[for Real Toads] some new shoes for my eldest daughter’s upcoming adventure studying abroad in New Zealand. I’m thrilled to announce she has also opened an obligatory blog to journal her travels to NZ and Thailand… you know, so her dad and I can see where all our money’s going:) Follow her at Mackenzie In Middle Earth to see her wearing those new Ahnu Boots we got her for Christmas. Her trip begins this February.
The drive back to school takes 3 1/2 to 4 hours.
3; if you’re foot’s heavy like Mom’s brother, Shawn.
There’s barely any blue between the clouds today
And what’s peeking through is a new shade of white.
Yellow mustard weed fringes both highway shoulders
And it’s crowded going either way on the 5.
I’m driving; making small talk with mom look easy.
Hey, the current on Pyramid Lake looks different.
Looks like stretch marks, Mom says.
Ya? I wouldn’t know.
We’re chugging up the Grapevine now. Come on, baby.
The car’s as old as me, but mom still trusts it to cut
Through Tejon Pass and Grimes Canyon Road where we
Read other people’s words etched in sandstone cliffs.
“Mom (in a ♥), I Love Jesus, I Love KK.” That’s cool.
But us scaling Vasquez’s rocks last week was better.
Tuesday’s Platform for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads
Spring, unkempt all year, wakes up frisky and new.
She doesn’t come on in a straightforward bulldozer way, but shyly
And not at all sure of herself, which makes you want her more.
The pandering, the unexpected finding. These are Spring treasures.
And so you wet one finger, to affix a wayward geranium petal;
That bright red heart to your forehead, making of yourself
A foreign man or woman (you take your pick) full of travels
In tassels and dyed fabric with shiny strings woven right in.
And even though you’re acting the child marked as much so
Between your eyes, Spring points out that it’s perfectly fine;
For even the grasses do not know their own weight,
And the wind blows wherever it wills
Which makes you believe in make-believe; And there in the corner,
A lily returns to life. Isn’t she something!
Dainty with crocheted edge. And all at once you know
You’ll figure things out even if you don’t know what they are yet,
Because the earth is so near and you are an Indian prince
Or princess (take your pick) sipping black currant tea
Before you’re off on an adventure; most likely on the backs
Of elephants swimming through very tall, untroubled waters.
For my Delaney who wants to swim with elephants &Spring which makes me believe she will.
Linking up with
and Real Toads Tuesday Platform
And so it was. We came after the festival.
The six of us on top of each other in your
Brother’s Washington condo. One small vacuum
In the tiny front closet, hat rack by the door.
Our girls put up a fight over who sleeps where
So you and I, to be fair, rotated to the floor.
It’s always like that. Teaching them to share.
Telling them to put their shoes on. “Down the
Road,” we said, “are fields of plenty, with
Ruby hued loot, and lavender for the taking.
Go! Look and see the world out there.” So after
Some convincing, they scurried away from us,
Hopping sad fences, plucking berries off of vines,
Golden-haired girls swallowing fresh country air.
Each one giddy from their sun-streamed adventure,
The promise of treasure in a fruity oasis, and
The gift we extended which was the apparent lack
Of proper parental guidance and over-bearing control.
Written for Real Toads
You who began as feet and eyeballs
Among your momma’s muscle and grit
Hitch your wagon to the highest star
Loosen your soul that’s bound to wonder
In this big bright beautiful world