Again surprised at sensitivity
from muscles I thought I’d well exercised…
I chased a spider. Now I get to be
again surprised.
She scurried on my sheet. I recognized
her leggy form and smashed her fatally.
Today my quadriceps are compromised.
I move with stiffness; I’m a sight to see.
Such darting action now is not advised.
I’m struck with waning flexibility,
again surprised.
Without a doubt the teacher I remember most of all
was given like a present in 5th grade.
The man was smart, creative, wise, and I can still recall
some ways and means his teaching plan displayed:
Like dictionary racing for a word
that Mr B pronounced, to get there first;
or quizzes on the morning news we’d heard,
but never noting who performed the worst;
us reading Thursday poetry, or just
reciting lines to every present ear
(and letting that class joke arise, to trust
if nothing else the ride of Paul Revere);
narrating history while we did art;
and pointing out that, while a record ran,
we all were focused on the spinning part
(for such a sight-reliant creature’s man).
The maestro was a mage. I even met his family,
including me in outings to the zoo.
Of teachers either bland or threatened/envious with me,
he really was the best of all too few.
Disdainful of the plotting and for sure
embarrassed at what scripts make actors do,
I guess I can’t take zany any more –
at least not movies streaming billed as new.
Becoming a curmudgeon? At my core,
I don’t believe those syllables ring true.
Instead I fear the situation’s clear –
our culture’s growing stupider each year.
I’m trying when I transit through a door
to whisper to myself encouragement.
My kid says stepping on another floor
can reset active memory. I’m bent
today on bending better, and what’s more,
I’m not averse to stretching my extent.
It’s worth a week’s attempt. It’s not complex,
soliloquizing softly I can flex…
A spine’s a stick but mine feels petrified,
unlimber in the lumbar, and the neck
resists smooth move like it’s solidified –
the top and bottom of my rod’s a wreck.
I’m tired of the cautions I have tried
but not about to quit them. I expect
to heal more slowly than I did back then,
but soon I’ll twist and bend and flex again.
She voiced opinion, and she made it strong,
but couldn’t elevate it to correct.
She always hikes her tone when she is wrong,
so much it’s come to be what I expect.
She has no clue how it was to belong
in me – no skill or patience to detect.
If I attempt to argue, it’s her style
to emphasize I must be in denial.
Too bad the bus is 16 minutes out,
but walking doesn’t seem advised to do –
this pain at base of spine is not a shout,
but whispers so persistently I’m through
with further ambulation. And it’s true
this bench is nice and so’s the shade on me.
I’m comfortable. Before my ride’s in view,
I’ll finish these 8 lines of poetry.
The neck is almost loose again, but warns
me on occasion to keep taking care –
it shoots an upward stab of pain, like thorns
embellish aging disks that harbor there.
My tongue is nearly healed at tip, from where
I bit it stressed and chewing two days gone,
and yesterday my low back didn’t spare
a twist. Today I won’t be using brawn.
I thought I wouldn’t have the time, and then
the puzzles almost solved themselves today.
I might have pushed the pedals once again,
till language study stole an hour away.
But I can do some yoga now, and when
I leave I’ll work my legs, for they’re okay
to be the free equipment I will use
for exercise and photographing views.
I sauntered to the store the other day.
I had an afternoon with no request
that I produce and nothing in my way,
and weather coming gently from the west.
Deciding I would walk a bit and pay
for peaches that in August taste the best,
I laced my shoes and paced in mild breeze,
observing summer clouds above the trees.
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