New Mexico · poetry · Running · Travel

Red River

Resting on a stool in a winery
Here, in my happy place,
Red River, New Mexico,
Where Main Street (NM 38) is one mile long,
Or so Coach Garmin informed me on my run this morning.
This room is warm and colorful and cozy, with oryx and elk mounts on the wall, and live funky jazz wafting in through the front door and my God, I love it here.
Elsewhere at this moment, my children and husband are probably napping back in our lodge room.
I’m fine with that. Mom needed a walkabout.
Thunder murmurs to itself over the mountains, and rain — RAIN!! - HELLO, RAIN!! — drizzles down with yes, amusing insouciance.
What, were you waiting for me?
Yes, rain, we were.
And now you’re here, and we went fishing today and the girls reeled in one trout after another, and we brought them back and immediately cooked five in our little kitchenette.
And they were good.
And this place is good.
And we’ve seen deer, rabbits, soaring birds, attentive dragonflies, and bighorn sheep.
My heart is beginning to unwind.
I’m exhaling into this tiny respite, into my own peace, into my own strength.
Here’s to all of that.
Here’s to the rain.
Here’s to good fishing.
Here’s to happy places, wherever they may be.

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