The Twenty-first Poem August 21, 2022
The fragile human body! It can
seem tough, but it turns out to be
breakable, Not long ago I broke
three toes. I’ve fallen on my head,
half in/half out of the chicken coop,
or backwards at the sink. I’ve
learned to catch myself before I
fall, and even go months without
falling. And walk short distances
with no cane or walker. Yet I live
now knowing I can fall so easily,
so without warning. It’s part of
aging, living with this unpredictability.
We do heal. Once I got a black eye,
when I couldn’t stop running and
had to fall to stop myself. And then
I couldn’t get up. People around
me worry I’ll do it again. Never
intended, always unexpected.
My doctor calls me “Trouble.”
Yet she defends me to my son:
“It’s how she does as well as
she does.” Despite my falls,
I thrive.
No comments:
Post a Comment