People out for the weekend were worse off than me.
Struggling. Sweat rosaries and strap stains
draped like stoles on their shoulders.
Leaned out hands together in the shelter.
Listen. They love to complain about the weather.
It is all about contrast.
Where you were yesterday gets in the way.
Sets you up for a betrayal of expectations.
And I had none. Not at that point.
Not after two months.
I was better off than them.
In that I was already broken.
Down enough to learn real truth doesn’t need to be spoken.
At least not solely by one human to another.
I learned it’s best just to let earth teach her own nature.