I stopped putting a tally in this space.
All numbers do is smear and blur the pain and fear.
All numbers do is feed the enemy’s lie that it has the power.
Today I took my dog on a long walk
in the woods. Deliberately,
of course. And just to see
if there’s any marrow left in the world.
For a time
when we were out there alone and all we could hear were birds of all kinds and the swish of still bare tree limbs in the wind
I almost felt
normal
again.
Just me and him
like the good
old days—when was that?
Oh. Yes. A handful of weeks ago.
I almost couldn’t remember
the before.
Or is it just that it hurts too much
to think of all we’ve lost so
fast? “Front only the
essentials,”
Thoreau said,
“living is so dear…”
Indeed.
