Standing up:
easy once you do it
but for me it is like moving
rocks. To get past the pain
in my left leg. To get past
the worry that once I stand
I will fall.

Walking:
easy once you do it
but for me it is like strolling
over old, sharpened glass
barefoot. To get past the pain
in both sad feet. To get past
the fear that I will fall,
someday; today, maybe.

Sitting down:
easy once you do it
but for me it’s a controlled
fall. I relax once I’m down,
a little. Do you know
how long it’s been since
I last relaxed all the way?

Standing up:
easy once you do it
but I’ve said that once
already. No need to
say it twice, is there,
other than in knowing
this will go on and forever
until I decide not to.

Lying down on the floor
to pick up something, to look under
something else:
easy for you to say
but for me it is horror,
fear; I won’t get up again;
I’ve fallen without the comfort
of the television’s offerings and
what I looked for wasn’t there
anyway.

Lying down anywhere after all this
is comfort:
easy for you to say.
Easy for me to say, too,
right up until the last time
I can do it.

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