Some things I seldom do I did last week.
It started Tuesday morning, I believe.
I hurt my back with five-pound weights – I speak
of that not much or loudly, trying not to grieve
about surprises aging throws at me.
I knew I’d wrinkle, but nobody warned
of bruising, tearing, inability
to tackle jobs the younger I once scorned.

I moved my garden shears to handy reach.
I harvested two blooms before they bent,
and set them in a vase. I let pain teach
me I can take more time at tasks. Years went
and lately whip away – the weaving frays –
but odds are good I’m bound for better days.