OPTIONAL POETRY

As usual I could not find my phone,disoriented, swatting the air,  a sore back, a thirst for coffee,and nothing has changed  on this the day of my birth. Ten years ago I wrote  about the apple treesin my parent’s front yard,  saying summer is over,I will leave in days–  their new house nowis surrounded by orchards,  the lush rows sparing it from fire after fire.  The foothills are stark there,the sky seems bigger,  and when the smoke […]