Getting Well

I cant remember quite when
I decided to dress and go out
Not feeling ready or strong
Just bored enough for the risk.

It must have been the moment
Some furious battle tilted
Between invaders and guards
Endurance turning to hope.

I made it around the block
Slow as old folks in the park
Who step to keep from falling
And stop to catch their breath

To sense movement and rest
A breeze stroking the lips
To squint at fluttering leaves
And the radiant blue of air

Like a kid on shaky legs
Licked, sponging up life.
Recovery is a miracle,
But father will you arise?

October 31 1996

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