Last week my feet took me
to the far-away place I used to
live
A place I still
love
and miss
A land where it
barely dipped
below 95 beautifully bone-dry degrees
the whole glorious five days
I was there
so that I never rolled up my windows
not even on the freeway
and I walked barefoot as often as possible
especially in the grass
and the only cloud in sight
was the smoky haze settling over the mountains
from the wildfires to the north
and while in that land
these feet of mine carried me
from one lovely person to another
one former piece of my world to the next
as we shared hugs
and beverages
and meals
and pedicures
and late nights
and lazy afternoons
and organic, nitrate-free bacon from a (formerly) happy pig down the road
and beer brewed a couple miles down the other road
and bustling downtown patios
and quiet kitchen tables
and laughs
and tears
and ideas
and possibilities
and most of all news
updates
stories
battle scars
all seasoned with
a steady sprinkling
of giggles
and memories
And after all of that
my heart is now
torn
Because pieces of it are with so many people
I care about
in so many different places
that aren’t here
On this trip, more than others
I noticed the intoxicating pull
of the familiar
The easy comfort of people who have known me
through many years
and chapters
of my story
And I saw so crystal-clearly that
back then
none of us could have ever predicted
where all our years
would lead
And most of us have endured much
much
more
than we ever thought
we could
or would
Few of us have escaped
unscathed
Which makes the stories
that much more bitter
and also
somehow
sweet
So I hold all of that in my heart
tonight
as my bare toes are happily back home
At least
the home
where they live
today
xo
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