Dry Fall

It was a dry fall

Hardly enough rain to satisfy her Northwest roots

The leaves crunched under her feet as they pounded down the pavement

She watched him leave

Bag slung over his shoulder like a jaunty cowboy

It was a sight she was familiar with

She’d seen it before.

Too many times before.

It must have been love

Or something just like it

Because she’d never wanted something so badly

And been willing to work as hard as she possibly could for it.

The fear that it still wouldn’t be enough was paralyzing

And she couldn’t breathe for fear of upsetting a delicate balance

 - one that in reality, hadn’t existed for a while…

At the end, it turned out to be a waiting game

Continuing to go on, waiting to see when their paths would cross again

Always waiting waiting waiting for something that would just happen

Spontaneously, as if neither of them had any control

It was a dry fall

And she turned away from him walking away from her.

She couldn’t watch it again

For fear that her tears would trigger the rain.