Kind Souls

(Forthcoming Publication in Ink Pantry)

Thunder rumbles

and lightning flashes.

It sounds like a tall oak snapped in half. 

Today I am uneasy,

not knowing which way to go

on almost every decision,

so I try different directions

to see what works.

The first one didn’t seem right

so I start over and try again

in a safer place.

I found a kind face,

who took pity on me,

and a nice helper

who sewed thread onto my torn apron string

with stiff, swift fingers. 

I feel my body is weak.

I need wholesome food for nourishment

and to settle the knot in my stomach.

I had a bad night.

Up intermittently,

but never knew the time.

I had sweats then a jolt of chill.

I slept in late

and wrong footed the day.

A river of water

flows down the street.

I am only half prepared.

I have a large umbrella,

found in the trunk from father,

but I am dressed for a sunny summer day

in a jumper and white sneakers!

Can’t step in a puddle or they will be ruined,

so I turn back for cover

like an alley cat crouched in the doorway

with big eyes looking out onto the world,

hoping for kind souls to cross my path,

not nasty boars with sharp tusks.

The storm tricked me.

Just when I thought it would let up,

it struck again

and rain came pouring down

on the town, on the town, on the town.

The sun tried to come out again

and clear up the mess. 

Plans dashed

and confusion came over me again.

My mind went to a sick child at home

and my parents worry for me being alone.

They tell me to leave early

and come home.

They do not understand this place.

My husband says to stay,

do my work,

take the journey,

but the tone in his voice sounds impatient

that I am hesitating

and checking in.

Communication is strained.

Which way should I go?

I am happy to be here on this quest

with these characters

in the play.

They are trying to figure out the puzzle too.

It is calm now

and a little boy bends down into a puddle

and splashes water with his hand,

so does father.

Rose pink glasses catch the setting sunlight

at the dinner table

and it provides hope

tomorrow will be a better day.