Pre-op appointment day.
Knee replacement surgery meant to alleviate her pain.
No mystery there.
Had she been tired lately?
Had she felt “off” somehow?
Any shortness of breath?
How long had this been going on?
“A couple weeks.”
“You look pale.”
One month of in-patient.
My friend has changed.
What we think.
What we know.
What is yet to be known.
God, her Sustainer.
Prayer, her discipline.
Pastor Husband, her constant companion.
What a strange life we live.
It’s dark here, so dark, and getting darker by degrees.
Darker than a well, ‘round with heavy metal walls.
Darker than our pasture when coyotes bawl.
Darker than sleet, quickly falling down.
Darker than the future for this love-forsaken town.
Darker than the traveling cookers, making meth.
Darker than the search for still-born breath.
Darker by far than ever I’ve seen.
Darkness that cuts like a guillotine.
An original piece by Lori H. Copyright Feb 9, 2018
A stallion I’m not, but neither a nag.
No more harness.
No more whip.
No more bit in the mouth for this filly.
Now, I’m free to kick up my heels if I want to.
Free to race through the pasture, splitting the wind as I go.
Free to say what I want, whinny if I will, and blaze a new trail that leads where I want to go.
When have you gotten free of an entanglement you regretted? How long has it been since you ran against the wind?
As a small child atop a large knee,
I learned a thing or two ‘bout me.
“Blue eyes can be captivating.
Love is great and worth the waiting!
Smart and savvy aren’t the same,
and yes, you’ll have your share of shame.
Hard work doesn’t always pay,
and cherished folks don’t always stay,
and fortunes rise, but they also fall.
Through it all, yes through it all:
The tough, the rough, the messy bits,
your lot of fools and senseless nits,
You’ll pull through,
and do you know why?
‘Cuz I’ll be watching out for you!”
Piles of it.
Skirts, way too short.
The evidence of life, well-lived.
Soiled briefs boot-skooted through agitating foam.
Stanky microbian fumes pirouette,
dance the pole down poly pipes on their way to the sewer.
Corruption washed away by the Tide.
Detergent gifting redemption.
–excerpt form Captain Corelli’s Mandolin
Do you see love as a thing that stays, or a thing that flits away? How much does habit have to do with sustaining love and our determinations to get well?