Words aren’t coming—no big deal
if you write or not, doesn’t matter
on this blustery, rainy day.

And then something nudges you
to stuff your stubborn feet into purple
rubber boots, don the rain jacket

and hat, consider, then discard,
the idea of umbrella as you walk outside,
squint into the gray overhead,

take a step, then another and another,
solvitur ambulando, Saint Augustine
is said to have said—

it is solved by walking—

and off you go, steppin’ off the sads,
your blue mood dripping away with every
raindrop, every footfall literally moving

you forward, because, as Sir Issac said,
a body in motion continues in motion,
so keep’a’ goin’ there, sweetheart.

Look—without even trying—words
begin to drop into the brain pan
like pennies in the pocket.

Feel them jingle with every step.
They matter. You matter.
Be grateful for so many riches.