Selected Poems
Piggy back
Found her out front, limping and
feeling down, she said she felt fat,
had twisted an ankle, nearly in tears.
I slung her on my back, for years, as usual
to backpack pick her up, carry her home.
She gasped as I bucked down the walk
horsing around, holding onto my hood.
I hop scotched up the few stoop steps, charged
her through the door, like many times before.
Laid her out, gently on the couch and
I went to the kitchen for the ice bag and
flopped on to the couch and we laughed.
My knees trembled and lower back ached
refused to let her see me, weak or in pain.
Both of us knowing, soon, I would be unable
to play hero and she would have to learn
to hobble back home, on her own.
But not on this day.
feeling down, she said she felt fat,
had twisted an ankle, nearly in tears.
I slung her on my back, for years, as usual
to backpack pick her up, carry her home.
She gasped as I bucked down the walk
horsing around, holding onto my hood.
I hop scotched up the few stoop steps, charged
her through the door, like many times before.
Laid her out, gently on the couch and
I went to the kitchen for the ice bag and
flopped on to the couch and we laughed.
My knees trembled and lower back ached
refused to let her see me, weak or in pain.
Both of us knowing, soon, I would be unable
to play hero and she would have to learn
to hobble back home, on her own.
But not on this day.
