Monday, March 1, 2010


So far it’s nothing I can’t bear;
I’ll swear, but stay in motion
(Maybe limping, maybe weaving
Just a bit as I walk across the room). 
In truth right now it’s mostly hands;
Tomorrow may be legs and feet again
(A part of looming old age I am told).

If this were all I faced I wouldn’t care;
At facing pain I’m fairly bold.

What’s hard is losing joy,
Sometimes from familiarity—
From having been there
Too many times already—
And sometimes from despair
At my constant grieving
As I see how my beloved suffers
On her halting way through
Yet another pain-filled day.
©2003 By John I. Blair 
Click on author's name above for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.

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