sunny dayz

I was driving home a few weeks ago on a sunny day, the first in a long while. Outside my window I saw beautiful Irish green grass blanketing the hillside, all under the golden glow of a setting sun. It was so perfect, and as it called out to me, no part of my mind hesitated to follow. I parked my car and walked out smiling like I had just run into a friend I hadn’t seen in ages.


As the warm sunlight flooded my eyes, I saw rainbow streaks and lush green fields, rich brown bark on awakening trees, a perfectly blue sky and felt the soft earth beneath me. I could smell the freshness, and could feel the perfect combination of cool air and yellow sun on my skin. I leaned back into the nascent grass, deeply inhaling, decompressing, deconstructing, melting while the blades rustled in between my finger tips and touched the back of my neck, cradling me as the sun continued to shine.


the laundry room

the messy stack of construction paper that my siblings and I have been using on school projects for years

mom’s binders from when she finished her degree at csun

fine mesh and an embroidery hoop for silk screening tina shirts in the 8th grade

all sitting on a wooden wall mounted rack that my grandpa made a few years ago

and outside, the ladder we’ve used to get onto the roof to repair fallen shingles during the summer or access camping gear and the christmas tree stand with

the dense patch of deep green ivy I’d let my chickens prance around in and scour for bugs

seen through the window of a door I’ve actually never once seen opened

in the top right corner the sparkle of glossy leaves belonging to an oak tree that has been growing and growing for as long as I can remember.