Today’s Daily for the Senior Lady
She walks as quickly as her zoftig body
allows, relies on her cane for balance or to push
her cumbersome, lumbering self, up tiny inclines
and down the almost level paved road.
Speeding cars pass her with inches to spare,
catch her unaware, dislodge the balance machine
in her brain. Her hands extend, fingers splay
to give her added security from falling.
She continues the daily, laborious task.
The day is dank, humid, damp and earthy.
It’s been raining, but stopped. She knows
she has to move or be unable to.
Already, she suffers from atrophy
to various parts of her anatomy.
The sky spits a bit. She wonders
if it’s the trees shaking droplets
from their leaves. Water falls faster.
She pretends she’s young again.
She tries to skip, but trips.
She wants to run the rest of the way home,
but can’t, her brain forgets what to tell her legs
and they forget how to move whatever way
they need to, to manage a gait she hasn’t attempted
in 20 years. She proceeds with purpose and resolution.
In the ten minutes it takes to make
it to her destination she plans the next steps,
where to take off wet clothes, how to not make a mess,
what to do for the rest of the rainy day
and she prays she doesn’t forget the steps.