Here I Am, Still

 

They see me hobbling down the street,
tap tap tapping my cane,
just like my grandma did,
when I walked her back to the old folks' home,
that single tear rolling down her cheek,
her life reduced, no longer
to her liking.

I am luckier than her, or braver.
I chose my dream,
then flew by the seat of my pants
to keep it alive.

It cost me, and aged me,
and slowed me down,
yet here I am, still,
in the place of my dreams.

They see me hobbling down the street
- tap tap tap -
and give me that smile
that people give the old,
as if life and dreams are all over
and I am suspended, just waiting
out my days.

Yet, all the time,
I am remembering:
the cottonwoods, the crickets,
the lazy summer bees,
and us making love
on the side of a mountain,
on the soft, brown, dried out
pine needles,
your dark eyes beautiful,
looking down,
the cerulean sky above.

for Shay's word list: after the poem "Wrinkly Lady Dancer" by  Alicia Suskin Ostriker.