In the pick-up bed:
tool belt, sheet metal, butane,
a box of mangos.

Um, hello and wink
and who you calling cupcake?
I hope that it's me.

Almost too pretty
to believe: sun, water, shine.
Thank God it's Friday.

Minor surgery
still takes me back to that time
of this, everyday

So much space, waiting
for us to step in, fill up
join, touch, sing, belong

Everyday's earth day.
Earth tree water sky day. Right?
So. All is not lost.

Walking carefully
the tender psoas throbbing
one step at a time

Two dozen jeweled orbs,
holding secrets or promise.
Half full or hard boiled?

Slipped step or false start
Somedays the heart just stutters
The bed won't get made

We are all alike:
Each of us has a birthday
and loves to be loved