Helping an old man <br />push his shopping cart, <br />how old I don’t know, <br />she tripped,84 herself, <br />my sister there <br />immediately calling an ambulance. <br />She told me of this that night <br />said, “If only she didn’t do that.” <br />stopped her <br />said, “She needed to <br />from love or pride, don’t know.” <br />Next day the news: <br />broke her hip <br />worse <br />afterwards <br />if the operation went well <br />an aluminum walker <br />to lean on. <br />And all her life <br />hauling groceries <br />and laundry. <br />The only matter now <br />I’d tell her, if I dared, <br />to carry on <br />beyond the inconceivable <br />betrayal <br />of the body <br />which once <br />she called her own.<br /><br />Charles Chaim Wax<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/inscribed-on-this-gravestone-of-flesh/
