First Practice

With no car, I had to walk to the first practice of the Spring season. I worried that, as out of shape as I am, I'd be too tired by the time I got there.

The weather experts expected a serious thunderstorm, but it was moving east slowly from Dallas, and when I set out the skies were fairly clear.

I listened to Medeski, Martin, and Wood as I walked, carrying a dark green backpack with my cleats, shin guards, and water. I figured the time would go faster and easier, so I read from Proverbs from off my phone. I even paused to highlight passages about prudence and anger, remembering that long ago I used walking to get a handle on both.

to outrun the storm

my feet would have to forget

burdens making tears

Late

It has rained for several days here, but I cannot claim that as my excuse for not getting out, particularly as I was failing to walk (except for my coffee walks at work) long before the bad weather. But today was sunny, and I kept telling myself I should enjoy the sun and unstale air outside my small house. Of course I waited until nearly sundown.

I can't help but think such procrastination is a metaphor for much of my life. I wait until there almost isn't any time left, and then jump in, or rather crawl in, flailing with all the energy of a slug escaping salt.

Today I mourn a loss. I haven't cried about it, perhaps because I cannot believe the loss is forever. I don't cry, but it is hard to move. But move I must do.

i drink this shiner

not to remember, forget,

or honor your life

sipping from the brown bottle

i placate my bitterness