getting your feet wet
hiking I would totter
from tiny rock to tippy log
desperately trying to keep warm and dry
arms flailing
inevitably ending up
in the drink
but jogging here
in the meltwater mudseason days
there’s no way around it
gotta go through it
let the cold soggy seep in
then run your body warm
striding through the rushing
asphalt-path-turned-beaver-dam-outlet
there’s a shivery freedom
to not turning around
a satisfying slap and splash
to each saturated stride
we keep going together
fortified by mud
