For Now

For Now

Wandering the wrong way

past the red brick warehouses

in the Haymarket, only

partially lost, my face

is stung by freezing rain.

Slush oozes into my shoes.

I'm lost again, but

soon I will turn the right corner

and spot the Crescent Moon.

Soon I will open the door,

listen to the chimes, order

Indian spiced chai, and settle

into the black leather armchair

next to the lamp under the palmtree.

There I will take off my shoes

to dry my socks, dig out a pen,

and write in my flowered journal

about who knows what,

whatever comes to mind,

contented and purring inside

like a cat dozing in the only

sunbeam in a chilly house.

Soon and very soon.

But for now , I step in icy puddles, 

let the wet wind bite my cheeks.

And for now, these small discomforts 

are enough. Until I get where I'm going, 

the walking, the biting, the seeping, 

the freezing are all glorious proof 

that I am alive, 

that I am awake

that I am here

right now.

By Sarah Fairchild 2003

~ ~ ~

Notes:

→ April 6, 2003; revised 4/24/03

→  Crescent Moon refers to a coffe house in Lincoln's Haymarket District that is popular with poets and musicians.