I stand sturdy in this room,
Facing you new from the womb.
I press my back against the wall,
To push you back,
To watch your back,
To be your wall.
I keep my heels against that wall
Where others stood before I crawled.
If I'd been dipped in River Styx
I'd linger longer,
But I will fall.
I'd daily bathe in ambrosia
To ward off eternity,
I'd lean forever
Against this wall,
But for mortality.
And so my hands are calloused,
My great grief known;
I have Achilles' burning rage,
I have Achille's heels.
Before that day we'll warm a bench
Near the rowan tree,
I'll wear a cap, carry a cane,
Sit small ones on my knee.
We'll name Lakers, carrying coal,
Fewer now to unload,
And tell silly tales, and get old.
I'll know the joy you'll bring me,
Like letters carved in a tree.
My happy heels press and stall,
I'm stalwart facing you;
I'm backed against the wall.
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 2:25 PM UTC
I stand sturdy in this room,
Facing you new from the womb.
I press my back against the wall,
To push you back,
To watch your back,
To be your wall.
I keep my heels against that wall
Where others stood before I crawled.
If I'd been dipped in River Styx
I'd linger longer,
But I will fall.
I'd daily bathe in ambrosia
To ward off eternity,
I'd lean forever
Against this wall,
But for mortality.
And so my hands are calloused,
My great grief known;
I have Achilles' burning rage,
I have Achille's heels.
Before that day we'll warm a bench
Near the rowan tree,
I'll wear a cap, carry a cane,
Sit small ones on my knee.
We'll name Lakers, carrying coal,
Fewer now to unload,
And tell silly tales, and get old.
I'll know the joy you'll bring me,
Like letters carved in a tree.
My happy heels press and stall,
I'm stalwart facing you;
I'm backed against the wall.
Edited and reposted.
