Buen Camino!

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

Too many answers

A pop song my daughter has forced on us plagued the beginning of my walk. After a while, I was able to push it out of my mind, temporarily replaced by lines from Santana. By the end, I managed strains from Concierto de Aranjuez.

I have wasted too much time today arguing. There are so many foolish people with so much anger and energy, they cannot take the time to consider facts or reason or decency. Perhaps one of those fools is me, opening myself up to the droppings of the swine. 
 
Solitude can let in too many voices. I must be careful. Worse than the smug are those that say, "The next clever thing you say will convince them." Worse even are the voices that ask you why you bother and do not wait around for an answer. 
 

big cats
crouch in dried leaves
thinking they are hidden
my dogs know you're there and can smell
your fear

Against grey

Before the storm hit, Tonya and I walked past debris on a fence, past the burned out Roots and Wing Dingers, around the Holliday Inn. We talked of exercise and arguments, the wind and hills against us. Toward the end, I enjoyed a little color against the grey.

damp wind
a thick jacket
nerves lighting up the leg
i'm glad you came along to see
these leaves