Weddings come and go like roses:
one day they are open and vibrant,
the next they are faded with falling petals.

Thank goodness, though,
for when one is a bridesmaid,
her bank account ends up petal-less, too.

2-headed gold medal rose = my pride & joy

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October skies are clear,
blue and peach paint the
sunset nightly.

Guitars, güiro, trumpets, trombones, vocalists
enlivened the stage tonight with
lifting sweaty people of
all colors and backgrounds from their
Always a party–
anyone always welcomed with
opened arms and swaying hips.

“America is not a country.
It is a continent divided into 3 parts:
North America,
Central America,
and South
It is my belief that anyone
should be free to move here
with good intentions.”

I clapped.

We danced in place;
now my feet ache.
We watched the
sun go down.
One man, though, danced with
such intensity and longevity that
I don’t think he will
walk properly tomorrow
He managed to
fan himself,
and drink…
all while dancing vivaciously.
He was the highlight.

Tamales punctuated our
evening, with a scorching
chili paste chaser–
an appropriately warm ending to
quite a sultry day.

Latin Music Festival – my feet hurt

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Train horns, street lights,
and raindrops on elephant ears–
these are home to me.

Jingly toys, soft fur,
and warm cuddles at night–
memories of autumns past.

Hot cocoa, pumpkin pie,
and movies on the sofa–
something we could never live without.

Autumn brings back memories,
but also acceptance of change
in the new season to come–
as the old way dies away,
the new home,
the new memories,
are born.

my little snuggle-bun, Ashes, watching Netflix

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The sky looks different when
autumn arrives;
it’s almost as if I can feel
the cooler breeze, lighter air
just gazing out.

My imagination is vital during the
rest of the year,
pretending that it feels as
good as fall, no
matter the weather.

The sky is clear of clouds,
continuing forever it seems,
until the sunset illuminates the
ones coasting in,
carrying a cold-front in their

Just looking out of
my shaded window, I
feel a cooler breeze on my cheeks,
acorns crunching beneath
my heels, and the smell
of pumpkin pie spice,
as if it was warming my
kitchen like the sun on
the horizon clouds.

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In the warm autumn breeze
that tickled the trees’ leaves,
I filled my watering can full
and watched as it pooled
in the overflow pan under my rose.
Would you happen to know
what jumped up as I
tipped the plate dry?
A sweet little toad,
with water dripping from his toes!

pauvre crapaud

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