The First Walk of Spring

On the second 70-degree day in a row

I strapped on my favorite shoes and

put on my sunglasses and

went for a walk.

One of the pretty white shaggy dogs we saw last time

trailed along beside me on the other side of his picket fence

his partner-in-crime in the kennel behind

the garage, woofing, woofing.

I turned around where we usually turn right,

the route too long with only your absence

for company.

The wind caught up then, ruffling the river

and I closed my eyes, walking into it

in a sure straight line.

I met the same smiling, ponytailed girl on the way back

that I met on the way out,

still smiling, still ponytailed.

The spring flowers were peeking up out of dead leaves,

limply waiting for rain.

My tender, wintered feet started to blister,

the shoes not my favorites anymore.

Somebody’s wind chimes danced,

they sounded like old spoons.

I climbed the hill with today’s mail

in my hand, greeted the waving forsythia,

(me! me! pay attention to me!) and poured

myself a cool glass of water,

and waited

for you to come home.

1 Response to “The First Walk of Spring”

  1. 1 jill
    April 3, 2010 at 12:32 pm

    Beautiful! I love ‘only your absence for company’.

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