He carries her purse on his arm
without awkwardness;
His comfort shows he must have been caretaker,
for some time.
Yet awkward she does feel.
He carries her purse on his arm
as if it belonged there.
Just another parcel to be handled
with care; yet not a care
to what this stranger thought.
This old woman hobbles
ambling behind;
a footfall - thrusts her forward,
one more step.
Doesn’t he understand she wants to go forward -
no more? One step closer
to the grave,
she can sense.
The cane catching
and holding her steady;
The pain, catching
and holding her firm.
She follows his lead; always hitting the mark
with her blue veined hand
wrapped around that staff
in her grasp.
Her gait, unsteady,
wobbly at best
As he carries her purse on his arm,
She follows his lead
one step at a time
A crooked cane
her only assist for the
ambulatory impairment she bears;
as he carries her purse
on his arm.
© 2010 Marlene Dunham