I woke to a downpour at 4 am.
waiting it out undercover
I consider the puddles that are sure to be.
Rain or not.
My front door opens to lightening darkness.
Off the porch, the sky brightens
showing off spots of blue and white.
One dark cloud hangs on.
Down the driveway,
into the wind.
Sharp and rainless
to the end of the block.
I face the uphill climb
and then the agreement to return to school
clouds my head
with what ifs and how to’s.
Debating the pros and cons
of one scenario vs. another
I find myself a mile out.
Down into the neighborhood
that leads to the ocean,
past a deserted school.
I avoid deep impressions in the asphalt
left by heavy buses and delivery trucks.
In a month perhaps they will return.
The corner store,
the morning bus,
the wind I had forgotten, hits me
as I turn west.
Head down into the gale
until
I reach protection
of homes and vegetation.
Birds hop ahead of me
on the trail.
Foot prints
disappear.
I stop
to negotiate the edges
for the next
stepping place.
An expanse of muddy water.
Sloshing shoes are probable
until
I see ground exposed enough
to get me
to the next puddle.
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