Poem: Recovery in Twelve Steps


Recovery in Twelve Steps

You catch yourself doing it.
Scurrying up the ancient stairs,
almost a run,
the way you used to,
your legs suddenly acting on their own,
reverting to the norm.
Never mind the heavy breathing at the landing.
Your body has begun
to trust itself.

Good morning.

I tend to sort of run up the steps in my house. There hasn’t been much running since my surgery a few weeks ago. But this morning, I found myself trotting up the stairs to the bedroom. Without thinking about the pain or danger of it.

Do a little boogaloo jingaling. (Only us older folks will know what that is, but it’s a good thing,)


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