Questions

To My Children, Grandchildren, and Brothers 
Inspired by Natasha Kolosowsky
With Apologies to Pablo Neruda
With Gratitude to Melinda Dill

What is the best way to the
yellow butterfly’s willowy home?

Will strawberries and chollas
ever grow fond of each other?

How do the fragrances of flowers
make the stars twinkle?

What are you called if you are
the first purple daisy?

If you were to start over, would you start
in a waterfall or at the Columbia River Bar?

Or, from the end, how long will it
take you to reach the beginning?

Do storms at sea originate
from a wild ride of tides?

If it is March, will April rest patiently,
or will May spring eternal?

When was the last time
you asked a foggy question?

Do you still have room
for the array of misty answers?

When mesquite trees talk to the sky,
are the palo verdes jealous?

Will redwoods scold noisy campground children,
or will rain be sufficient?

How many landscapes in Arizona
have moved to the suburbs?

Didn’t some choose to become
hermits in the wide open spaces?

If poets write to bring the interior to the exterior,
does that make them miners?