You Know That One Friend?

who invites you somewhere
new,
adventurous?
you think about going
and you check it out
a few times
You think,
yes, maybe this will
work
Introductions are made
smiles exchanged
still wary
but you feel
content
like the essence of 
who you are 
is 
understood
You keep going on your own
here and there
testing it out
meeting other people
awakening out of your 
otherness
You start chatting
and discover some have 
real friend potential,
outside of this space 
I'd love to hang out in person
sort of potential, 
the oh my goodness,
THANK YOU SO MUCH
potential
It's one thing to fit in,
It's a whole other level of living
 to belong
Image by Mabel Amber from Pixabay

Snowstorm Post Script

The sun came out to see what it missed

Plunking water from a detached rain gutter

Plunk, 
plunk-plunk, 
plunk, 
plunk-plunk

Kids back at the park laugh and carry on 
as if the freeze was only a dream

A Mini Cooper Car club member
back at work on a rebuild in the garage,
a can of Bud Light sits on its primed hood
it too, awaits a coat of paint

Two chihuahuas yip against me from across the street
their owner grumbles at them to quiet down

Normalcy hums, 
whatever that means,
zipping through neighborhood streets.
No rush hour zoom, 
but slow casual zips 
scope out damage you can't see 
on neighborhood streets
except for tree limbs piled curbside.

Damage runs deep in burst pipes
empty grocery store shelves
people boiling water to drink.

Shovels scrape, scrape, scraaape 
against concrete driveways
saws groan at broken tree limbs 
trying to hang on.

The last of the slush sloshes underneath my stride
evidence of snow and ice evaporates
One side of the sidewalk looks more like a post springtime rain shower,
the opposite proves otherwise.

Back outside after a week,
grateful it wasn't worse when it was for so many others.

A dry leaf gently cartwheels in front of me 
as if saying
"I've come back out to play!"

Along with the rest of us, picking up where we left off.