Sometimes living in a new country
is like learning to walk in new shoes.
They feel great when I first try them on in the store,
but I really don’t know how they will be in the long run.
Before I know if it’s a good match, we’ll have to walk a lot
in distant places, variable weather, different speeds.
Could we hurry for trains or hike mountains together?
at the end of the day, stand softly
wait for beauty?
We’ll be a bit clumsy, unsteady.
I might spend a fair amount of time
looking down at the ground, thinking
that by watching how and where I put one foot in front of the other,
I’ll regain my “sea legs.” We’re on dry land,
but I feel watery these days,
the kind of watery that swirls, then pools.
One day a surge of enthusiasm for the new,
the next, muddied,
with a gasp
for what I’ve left behind.