16 April 2010
Everything defeats me rather swiftly
these days. The lawnmower, a brisk walk,
a careless moment bending over to collect
mail from the floor--I missed the coffee table.
I can't even enjoy a cup of tea
without consequences. My body is not
my own any longer; for a time.
Such things once caused
deep resentment, wondering
if there had ever been a time
when my body was my own. Now I know;
it is. A skipped cup of tea, or the admission
that I cannot start the mower on my own
are sacrifices, not deprivations. Finally
I have something to give.
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