Judy at 84, sister Margie at 81. August 2021
Being Wise Forty-Four December 5, 2021
What a different life I lead.
The butter won’t melt on my toast.
I’m in my computer corner by day
and on my couch by night. From this
old writing chair I see my medicine
bottles, my water bottle, the half-full
honey jar, the book I’m reading,
the computer, the stack of paid and
unpaid bills. By my couch bed, a
vaporizer, a pile of my clean clothes,
a poinsettia. My cauterized nose
has still not healed. Out the window
I see the leafed and unleafed trees
at the edge of the woods, the coming
of light. Soon we’ll move the other
way as the earth shifts for January
and hurries toward mid-summer.
Our winter has been slight so far.
“Won’t you walk outside?” says
my son. “Not yet,” I say. Things
change slowly, inevitably, without
consulting me. I stay calm. Take
each day and do my best as the slow
days pass with fewer surprises.
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