I remember
great falls
Like the ones in Niagara
Great water rapids
Great falls
Like the ones in front of my address
Bruised knees on gravel and stone.
We fall
We fall
For the sake of the tragic
But one thing does so with no safety fabric
As the blossoms fall out of bloom,
we try to catch them all.
Running back and forth
for flower rescues of sorts.
I wonder why they do so let go?

I look up towards the fading green trees and shout, "Dont fall for the change stay just the same!"

But they fall even faster
They so with laughter
unto pavements of gravel and stone.
Away from home
Away from soft tones
As blossoms spring into fall and let go attachments.
They cheer
for
a new season.
As we set forth on travel and 'lones
We learn to welcome gravel and stone.
Today on this sunday I welcome great falls

Hear me say,
I know great falls.
Truly I know great falls.

For the love of small town colors
I search for you and me.
We are the color orange.

Solvangs bakeries lead the
buzzing bodies to the clocks.
Beyond fresh baked danishes and vexing storms of bees
brews wind strong enough to turn back time.

Winding and rewinding the
red and yellow hours.
They tick energy and happiness to
wake souls
Wake up *
Wake up
Wake up*
alarming with creativity.

In the red hour I feel how my body survives.
In the yellow hour i feel how our bodies intertwine.
In the spaces between I find
red and yellow mixing

for the love of orange.

Why waste poetry on the love of your life?
More life more life
Instead write about that night you ate peanut butter with a butter knife.
Spent four hours contemplating should you eat the whole jar without thinking twice?
Thats not how it works.
Dont think right
Write about the times you dont think right
That time you spent hours on the balcony in the middle of summer.
 Not to let your hair down but because you locked the door on your way out.
Hands pressed on the glass with no way out.
More life. More life.
Scream and shout
I love this life!
Get excited about the everyday fight.
To the buzzing blooming confusion that is the love of ordinary life.
Why not waste poetry on the love of life?

The seeds grandma the seeds!!!
Esta bien pruébalo mi amor, ni siquiera lo sentirás
Como todo lo malo que queda afuera cuando vienes a mi.
Tastes like pink and yellow
Real sugar this time its sweeter than candy!!!
Si amor sabe como el amor que tengo para ti.
The tree grandma the tree!!!
Tan grande como el amor que tengo para ti.

I love you.
Thank you for raising me and helping me make jam as sweet as can be.

Let it be your favorite flower.
Pictures of burning flowers might help ease the pain.
A petal smile that fits perfectly inside a picture frame.
Burning flowers only
Inside this house.
Only flowers that start a fire allowed past the front door.
In this house it's easy to remember to water flowers because they're set ablaze.
Water them and I'll take pictures of the burning flowers and stick them behind picture frames.
But too much water and life will die.
Burn them so they might stay alive
Too much love and I might die.
Burn me so that I  might stay alive.
It seems as if this description of life is far too violent but love is real.
Pick the flower
Plant the flower
That it may be the favorite flower
Dead or alive

This blondie is sweet as cake.
A true champion with a pretty face.
Royalty calls her the princess of pattycake.
A double dutch dancing dutchess
A two time winning pageant queen
Her hair stays messy and always on her cheeks.
Who needs a brush when you're  the princess of games & showcases?! Who needs to be proper when you're eating cake?
"I'm the princess of heaven with stains on my shirt!!!"
What a time to be eleven.
Royalty calls her the birthday princess.

I'm home ma.
Tell me that this fast pace family life is just what I needed. The kind that will get me to full from depleted.
I'm tired ma just tell me I'm home and I'll kick off the days with smiles on my face & wont search anymore.
Tell me I'm home and I've found what I was looking for.
That this love is transformed and all I need is the sanctuary. That it doesn't really matter that most **** boys turn out to be sociopaths. That it doesn't really matter how much money you have or how much power you have.
Just let my path be a powerless social one. The kind that keeps me broke & in love.
Tell me im home.
That this family loves me.
That this house really is a home free from deception. That I'm loved more and more with each day that passes.
Tell me I'm home.