the fire break holds
it’s like a dream:
the pink lines hold
and the land stays land
and the sky stays sky
with only a hotspot here and there
how long will we have
before the great spatula comes
and mixes things again?
poetry
unprepared for the future
unprepared for the future
I had seen it on Twitter –
the slurry bomber painting hills I know red –
but that didn’t prepare me
for magenta slashes across our landscape
visible miles away
just one more sign
I’m unprepared for the scale
of the crisis we’re in
fire everywhere
everywhen
our relationship with the land
will never be the same
our children will not know
how it was to live with smokeless skies
before the hockey stick curve
made itself felt
in our choking air
NCAR Fire after Record Snow
NCAR Fire after Record Snow
another day spent tasting the air for smoke
checking in on friends
body twitching with fight or flight
and this after months of snow
more snow than we could dare dream of
still never enough to damp down the threat of flame
it’s all year now
it’s every elevation
it’s a whole new level
of never-safe
firing up the activities
firing up the activities
the first night back
and I’ve traded sleep for doing
two states and one photo today:
that’s how it goes
we come into service
and the calendar balloons with commitments –
easing back into pre-pandemic busyness
we’ve less taste for it now
like lobsters who got a reprieve
we know the difference between tepid and roiling
today we saw tracks in sand
and the rest was a blur
internal spring arrives
internal spring arrives
another blue sky day
not stuck in sand
not sickened or burned
all of us able to marvel
at Bryce’s delicate turrets
white snow green pines peach spires
grey caprock and blazing blue
we wend our way decision by decision
to Swasey’s Beach:
temps in the 70’s
finally in Chacos
the Green River a grey roar
our feet and dog crusted with silvered sand
finishing Wintering
beer in hand by campfire light
it’s finally spring on our internal calendars
we have turned the year
as Katherine May says
there’s a palpable end to dormancy
we feel our seedcoats split
House Rock Valley Sunset
House Rock Valley Sunset
the last rays of sun fire the sky
and one son announces
he has a headache
and a runny nose
I help casually
without saying what I’m thinking:
is this our last pre-Covid-life sunset
and, if so,
will it take someone we love down
or
is this our last pre-Covid-life sunset
and, if so,
will it wash over us in an easy wave –
a bit of headache here
a scratchy throat there
will it leave us shaking our heads
at our years of precautions
friendships lost for nothing
so much restraint for so little cause
or at our reckless last week
unmasked with the masses
at the Grand Canyon
ears filled with other languages
noses filled with who knows what
but maybe
it’s just our last Arizona sunset til next year
unremarkable except for its normalcy
unworthy of this account
burn scars
burn scars
absentmindedly scanning the landscape
for rubble and char
catching the thought
…so this didn’t burn…
a thousand miles from fire
the way I think
…where’s her mask?…
watching an old movie
fire’s burned its way into my psyche
like pandemic terror
like checking every black shape here for condor
or every sunny drizzle seeking rainbow
Mather Campground Blessings
Mather Campground Blessings
all these little red fires
dotting the campground
sending smoke and heat and resin
into the night sky
all these cold white fiery points
glistening down from the black night
so many suns in our far-flung galaxy
a sea of milky possibilities
I’m seized by the profound joy of being here
on a by-and-large hospitable
(even in these uncertain disaster-prone days)
planet
thank you combustion
radiation
equilibrium
fire and night
unbalanced on the equinox
unbalanced on the equinox
the black campground studded by flames
like my inner landscape
raging from the unkindness one son inflicts on the other
and my inability to create peace
in our little truck
in our extended family
in our town
no it seems we all want to tear each other apart
enjoy that crestfallen look on the other’s face
when we betray them with disdain
just like me
unable to see the 21-month-old I made cry to sleep
his bucket never able to be filled since
the payoff of sleep so not worth the damage done
sleep I reject every night now anyway
I’ve no idea how to make it better
only know to limit the pain I myself inflict
unbalanced today
I lashed out and liked it
calling him out on his selfishness
not caring that each word I spat would undoubtedly
have the opposite effect
driving stake after stake between us
with each word I said
there is a dark energy
in our world of Schaafs
we take
and there’s never enough
how can I keep this from going out in the world
how can I possibly shift it
we keep repeating the mistakes of the past
our humanity diminished each go around
the Dalai Lama says
be kind whenever possible
it is always possible
but I don’t know how to respond kindly to unkindness
in a way that won’t lead to more
I don’t know how to read two books at once
sometimes I doubt I have enough love to give
sometimes the relief of peace seems as elusive
as drinking from the shimmer
of the highway’s mirage
