The thick of it

When you’re there, in the thick of it, it’s not that there’s no motion–
just constraint.
It’s not that you’re broken–
just stalled.

You’re not frozen, just stationary.
Not inanimate, just still.

I was, too, if only for today. Head bent, nose buried, feet leaden…rutted.

But however badly you’re stuck, all you need is an inch. And tonight it was a Facebook note, by a Friend I barely knew.

She wrote that she doesn’t have much time. She said, “In short, I want to tell you all I love you.”

I’ve read it twice and still can’t make them fit, still don’t know which should contain which–

this lament or this gratitude.