Making Dates

My tent has gained a few pounds from the rain. I'm polite and don't mention it. In lakeville I picked up a date to be interviewed on Q103 Fm on the 11th. My divorce date to appear in court is on the 4th. I should be stable in conversation by then I think to myself. I have begun to to look forward to last talks, meals with friends, and the company of people that smell better than I do. I'll be returned to the same point that I was picked up from after the interview.
*****
Irving Farm Coffee House. Millerton N.Y. My intention was to walk past. I could not. A block back I resupplied. My back hasn't even begun to consider forgiving me. The wind has lost all manners. I buy a decaf. The waitress moves like a song, and all the men are dancing. She is young, and heavy with fruit. We all smile in front of the fake fire of propane and concreate logs, because it is warm in here and we stepping in from the cold we are weightless. The coffee is all about in my brain. Maybe she didn't hear decafe is my first thought, but that is the last thought I note as my head starts the hum of caffine pouring into the top of my spine. Warmth. My thoughts begin to swim without care. Too many people are talking. I think they are all speaking my language. Not paying clear attention to anyone one conversation, I am in the Alps again, and nobody sounds like they use the same parts of speach. I swollow more coffee. A man a few years older than my forty-two years walks over. His son just finished the Appliacian Trail. He stares at me too long. My back is still complaining. I don't want to hear about nineteen year old bodies moving the world today.

The days go by so fast walking, although this seem hard to believe.The table next to me mentions it is Wednesday. I believe them..slowly.

In Amenia the hills open up a bit. I camp near the road to avoid hunters. In briar and sumac I disappear. New Gore-Tex meet thorns. Rain pants become wind resistant pants. Priceless.