Bees and Hibiscus

Two feet and my left hand
destabilized — what of it? Not like
it ever did much, the left hand — and
always walking uphill, my two feet —
except as adjuncts they were unnecessary
or so I thought.

So I thought.
The hibiscus outdoors did more.
The bees fumbling around did more. They
were independent. Still, they did not
fumble, they did not grow crooked;
they maintained.

As I am learning to do —
but it is so hard, so annoying — feet grown hard
yet so uncomfortable walking, and my left hand
wearing a glove to halfway to the elbow,
an invisible glove.

I will learn this. I swear
I will take this to heart —
tears in all my work,
but I will learn this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
onward,
T