The abyss haunts;
full of darkness. Sunlight waits
for me to return. Blackness
cries of broken hips or worse.
It teases me with the taste of that loss.
Eight weeks of sitting; waiting for that cracked bone
to heal; to return to driving for groceries, lifting
them into the car, into the house and walking
the dog. Unable to stop my plunge, I grab a shelf
to halt my fall.
The abyss haunts;
what if another fall drops
me lower
into the chasm?
Will it be
a slip
on the ice?
Maybe something
worse
leaving
me helpless
to the whims
of others?
Will I
find the
last ledge?
Bond Street Journal
Aug 2023
