January gets to me every year

Today my work life, my parenting life, and the quirks of my mood have converged badly.  Even a walk did not lift my spirits as much as I hoped.  It helps when I remember that January always feels like a long month to me.


Even after walking to the top
of the hill and looking back
to see the road twisting like a snake
below me, and the neighborhood pond
distant and tidy, realizing again
how different things are
just coming up here, past
the place where the field
rises so steeply from the road
that there’s only sky
above its stubbled arc,
feeling my cheeks grow cold
and then warm again,
lengthening my stride
and remembering
other walks and seasons,
I’m still sad, still feeling
discouraged and depleted.
The world hasn’t worked
its magic for me today.
But I know it won’t
be this way forever,
probably not even


One thought on “January gets to me every year

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