Calico Frost

As my parents would put it,

in a funk.

As my friends would put it,

depressed

or

tired.

How I put it,

aware of real life and frustrated and upset.

At first, it is boring

irritating

because I don't want to be there.

But quickly

as I enter the woods

the cool, damp springy air

tinted with the scent of ferns that lie on either side of the trail.

Planning

Every day

Every chance that is given

Scheduling

Organizing RSVPs

Bugging people to respond.

Talking to the caterer -

We can have bourekas after all -

And studying

I slip through the house

tiptoeing through the hallways that loom over my sensitive ears

I enter the kitchen

where a pitcher of lemonade is sitting on the counter.

Yes.

This road starts but never ends

It has choices but never a decision

This road loves and never hates

It continues and never stops

This road is improvised by all step foot upon it

It inspires and changes

A close companion

love, appreciation, happiness,

a place to go

comfort, recognition, excitement,

until the companion disappears

sadness, confusion, loneliness,

and the place to go is empty