Running with Victor
We found the pace of freedom
Our feet became wings
They carpet our sidewalks with the stages of their grace and degradation. Leaves that only hours ago were still supple, red and yellow are now brittle, brown and gray. The most vibrant among them cling precariously to their branches, sheathing trees in multi-colored lace. Yet with the slightest rustle of wind or rain they too will fall away, leaving trees with only fingers to shield them from winter’s cold.
At times it feels the fall has lain me bare as well. Stories and beliefs that only yesterday encircled me with brilliant light now cast their fragile weight toward earth. Cling as I might, transparency looms. And I have only fingers left to shield me from the cold.
My morning walk with Katie has become a thing of beauty. Squirrels dancing in bare tree limbs, chattering in their other-worldly language, sturdy northeastern birds singing to the still late rising sun. I am differently awake at this hour, my thoughts weightless and unhurried. I breath differently, feeling the cold air slide through my nose and down my throat. Katie takes endless pleasure in the snow, pouncing and rolling and shoving her face in holes. Her amusement is infectious, and I cannot help but smile at her antics.
this storm brought with it a floating, other-worldly feeling unlike others in recent memory. the snow seeming to materialize on every surface at once, from every possible direction, like breath itself. there was no clear beginning, middle or end, only swirling eddies of cold light filling the air. it was easy to doubt its magnitude, so subtly did it begin, and grow, and swell, until suddenly snow was everywhere, shrinking our world as it spilled over porches, sidewalks, cars and streets.
AT FIRST I THOUGHT The blue jay Was the last leaf To fall When it rocked From side to side And slowly tumbled To land on the snow Weightless As a piece of sky Broken off The cold blue place Where winter keeps The number zero.
that smile reminds me
of parts of me still broken