half in

there is a spring
in her step, but
in only one foot.
the other can't rise
to the occasion,
so it looks like
she's limping, but
she's not.
she's only in it
halfway. half love,
a half cup
of maybe, maybe
not. she sips
and sips waiting
for it to get better,
warmer, spicier,
something
that it's not.
so the spring remains
only in one shoe.
at least for now
that's all she's got.