by Sandi Martinez
My body tightens,
I become a stick, unmoving
My head slides around
I see Samson
he lies lazily on his bed,
his eyes question,
his stump of a tail moves happily
he wonders why mine won’t move
I have a lot on my mind
swirls like a hurricane
building, moving, shaking, running, spinning
my forehead lines with quizzical questions
my arms and legs are still
When will I move again?
What if my feet won’t go where they need to?
What if my arms don’t open when they should?
What if my mind slows and heart shrinks?
He circles me, nudges me; wants to know,
he walks to the door, the sun is shining, the air is warm
he winks – he paws the door,
Points this out, what’s wrong?
my eyes tear, my face swells
the world continues to spin
humanity continues its pace; cars, trains, buses, planes; we love
He grins, he understands, nods to the blue sky above
My life will never be the same