Sometimes it’s not just an uphill battle.
Sometimes it is not a battle at all.
Sometimes you just wait it out.
Sometimes it is cold outside.
And it’s dark. And it’s sleeting.
The moon is only a small sliver in the distant sky enemy,
That pours down the monotonous icy wetness
In a manner that is unceasing and faithful.
Sometimes you don’t have any shoes on your feet,
But you do the best you can.
Maybe it is the best three pairs of socks you own,
And cardboard with duct tape wound around your feet.
Sometimes it’s like you only have a pair of jeans to wear,
With a long-sleeved shirt befriended to your thin fleece jacket.
Sometimes you have a knit hat that fits tightly to your head,
The white with purple stripe hat darker than it would normally be,
Because of the way the sleet has soaked it, and runs down the back of your head.
Sometimes you have gloves, but they are as dark and wet and cold
As the way you feel inside.
Sometimes, as you walk with your eyes facing down toward the ground,
You hear the swish of the car go past.
But sometimes, that is the way you want it.
Sometimes you walk straight ahead, placing one foot in front of the other.
Sometimes you’re oblivious to the cold, dark and heavy wetness,
But it’s all the same to you.
Sometimes you don’t know where you are headed or if you will make it.
And sometimes, you just don’t care.
