We clutch a bit
now for sleep
through the night,
choose sharper tipped
verbs, phrases,
questions of status
quo, but are handed
cliches older than
we are. Blame it
on life change.
On menopause.
Hormones. Bone
loss. Arthritis.
Blame it on
fatigue that
(naturally) wraps
aging in a plaster
cast. Blame
it on the body’s
unwillingness
to heal, a fresh
need for stricter
limitation, new
doctor’s orders,
unreasonable
accommodations,
less time sitting,
standing, but more
assistive devices,
larger print, stretching,
a cane, orthotics,
meditation. Do
not think any
of this has to
do with the strain
of being alive
in the same space
as you, thick arms
crossed across
your chest as
you tell us, now,
we are no longer
worthy, are less than,
that we needn’t
concern our silly
tongues with the
important verbiage
of youth. Of work.
Real work. Whelp.
You guessed wrong.
Immunity does
not apply here,
and we have news
for you. We have
listened intently
to whispers on your
sidelines. In board
and locker rooms
you thought were
private. What you
pass off as practical,
necessary. We know
because we have
sat in waiting rooms,
readers, observers,
learners, teachers,
patient be-allers and
mentors. Our work
speaks volumes over
yours. Years more than
you have breathed
rhetoric and recycled
air. We can manage.
Rely on it. Our work
has just begun.
Katherine Mercurio Gotthardt, copyright July 5, 2024, all rights reserved
Posted in Katherine's Coffeehouse
