Rainbow Bright

Check off the to-do list, one last run along the river and throw out the milk before it goes bad in your absence. I drag perpetually heavy bags into the underground and squeeze into a crowded subway car, my cheek leaning awkwardly against the glittery arm of a drag queen. We get off the train at the same spot in the west village, the rainbow flags all emerging above ground and me schlepping the bags to another train northward. I get in late and run through the tunnels, arrive sweating on a train that races into the countryside, all moody clouds and waving reeds. I stare at the skyline and try not to cry. It's a day for joy and celebration, for love and confetti, for the great freedom of a new horizon but I feel none of that.

Beautiful days only remind me I miss you. The forecast says rain everywhere I'm going now. I am grateful for the reprieve.

If only I had packed a jacket.