I joked about it;
called it retail therapy—
walk around the mall
look more than buy;
it helped,
for a while,
kept things from going bump
in the night.
My kindly doctor called it
boot therapy—
put on your boots
and walk;
the pounds began
to disappear,
but the goblins stayed.
My friend called it
boot poem therapy,
put on your boots,
walk, write a poem—
the words will come
slowly at first
but they will come,
and I wrote
about whatever
accompanied me
on my walk.
None of my poems
were about goblins.
John A. Bayerl, February 4, 2012
Today I chatted with a dear friend who told me about what her doctor called the boot diet--when she gets hungry she puts on her boots and walks.I suggested that she may wish to write a poem while she's out walking about--kind of kills two birds with one stone; takes care of your physical and mental health. I'll be anxious to see the poem she writes.
Last night I saw the movie The Artist. Screwed up all my courage and went alone. It's still so hard to do that sort of thing without Gwen. I thought the movie was great, and it took my mind off of being by myself; ever so slowly I'll get used to my status as a single person. Have to learn how to behave all over again. It was so much easier when I was in my early 20s.
Brother Dick stopped by for a visit this morning. We always have a lot to talk about, and I know he is always there for me. He has a good heart.
No matter how alone, or how lonely I may be, Dear, you are always with me.
