I carry life 

 cedar smoke and silent prayers,

grit under fingernails and a garden of grief.

I rebuild with cracked palms and stubborn hope stacking dreams like firewood

Spring Sunlight, like honey, through a child’s hair

Herbs picked

make-believe tea to share

Mama, hold me 

The past howls sometimes

but I am teaching my body new muscle memories

the place called nostalgia lunges forward

& I smack it, hard,

a dog biting at dinner.

Dear lover, dear summer,

dear mountain skies, dew drop tents and trails,

we are alive,

isn’t that a miracle?

I let the visions unravel in warmth

quiet mornings, soft soil,

their laughter light as wind in the yard.

I saw your hands beside mine,

steady, sure

and for one bright breath,

it felt possible.