Day 69- 11.24.20

The feeling

I'm thankful it's on it's way onward

like a rain cloud or

a rusty can on recycling day.

The feeling gets further each day

like the ability to recall the scent of snow

in summer's wet center.

The feeling dissipates with each

compassionate interaction, each

island of passion reignited, saved from

dropping to the bottom of the sea.

The feeling akin to what the bottom of a foot

must feel in a gym sock.

The feeling adjacent to that of a shucked oyster

on display in the window of

a boisterous Wellfleet pub.

The feeling owns me until one day

I wake up

and it doesn't.

Miracle of miracles.