a still-life pose,
mere moments in time,
bearing scars, stars, stories of shame;
Stories of caring
stories of sharing and daring . . .
blessed and blessing,
cursed and cursing.
Questions hover, silent in mid-air:
What was it like to leave an island so fair?
What was it like to learn to walk again?
What was it like to say goodbye to precious new life?
Each of you, so strong, so alive . . . and yet, so isolated.
You haunt my dreams.
You goad me to succeed.
Prodding, pushing, it’s never enough . . .
I want to scream — stop making me bleed!
And yet . . .
at this moment in time,
as darkness descends,
I would trade all I have
for more days at your knees.