I Make My Way

She walked across the room.
Taking my arm, she gave it a squeeze,
“I like your robust spirit.”
That made my day, my young week,
And it buoys me now.

Stuff, random stuff,
Waits in the dark and the light,
Waits for opportunity
To vanquish us,
Though we recognize not the battle.

That I could see my face, my heart
That I could know how I look
A wonderful force
To be reckoned with.
I need this jolt of honor.

I move with extra spring in my step
As I cautiously make my way
Down the icy sidewalks
Of the Royal City of Holy Faith.
I make my way
Recipient and bearer of gifts.

I Make My Way—Santa Fe, New Mexico (December 30, 2008)
R. Harold Hollis