I’m not a big fan of in between.
I don’t like the awkward,
the not there yet –
the ending and not yet beginning.
A few days ago I found myself
in the in between
and I smiled
pleased to find an intermediate spot of perfect.
I didn’t really think this existed.
A not here and not there where I felt I belonged –
A spot that didn’t make me wish for next, end, new.
It was this moment.
A moment of balance found in the
here: summer and
not yet: fall.
An in between where I felt at home
with a longing only for what already was.
Sun, sandals and crunchy leaves combined
to make in between look irresistible and downright cozy.
It was hard to walk away from that.
And it should be noted that it occurred in front
of a place that brings me stress.
A place where I don’t always feel I belong.
A place where I feel the grit and tension of in between.
It seemed a small gift this intimate place of
sublime in between.
It was hard to leave.
But I carry it with me.
I will remember that I can
find joy in the
in between —
not only longing.
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