Your legs are of steel and bone
Turned inside out
Every step is weighed
By the oddity of your feet
Whose twisted steps
Create uneven paths
Ambling across the pavement
With the dissonance of thunder.
I did not see you standing there,
Until the door was opened for me
In a simple gesture of kindness
I saw that it is the consequence
Of my unblemished legs
That makes me weak, malformed.
I took for granted that these legs
Would always carry me
Flesh smoothed over
Ivory steeples of bone
Muscle and tendon intimately knit,
The mechanics of strength
Of evenly walking.
My first steps were shaky
But soon grew steady
I ran with my eyes closed,
Imagining I could fly
I dipped my toes
In cool pools of water
On hot summer days...
I see now that these legs are Unfinished
Burdened by thoughts, distractions
My every step is weighed
By life’s jagged pebbles
Creating uneven paths.
These legs can carry me much Farther…
The collective moments
That join a life
The gasp between a kiss
The sudden sting followed by tears
The dizzy feeling after laughter
Were all taken, in small steps.
Now we stand face to face
You give me a small smile
And open a door for me.
Lynn Mari, © 2009. All Rights Reserved.
Lynn Mari is a freelance writer and photographer. Her work has been published in Haute Dish, The Phoenix Spirit, South West Journal and the Art St. Croix "All Things Home" exhibit.
View all articles by Lynn Mari