Diary 2/27/19

On Waking at 5:30 a.m.

I can just reach the curtain

in my rehabilitation room.

Pulling it back revealed

the setting moon.

She has always been there

but I just discovered her

low in the sky this morning.

I placed her waning crescent

in my paper cup chalice

and drank deep.

She soothes, sings, patiently

healing with every swallow

four scrimshaw carved bones in my neck.

The pictures there

now covered with metal plates

held by screws,

tell the story of a spinal cord

just freed

from years of slow strangulation.

Movement is painful



rediscovering like the moon

a dance that has always been there

patiently waiting,

pulling back the curtain on a new stage.


I am moving back to my room tomorrow morning. The euphoria of sparking new connections has passed into the reality of honoring how atrophied so many muscles are and committing to the year of hard work before me. It is a good thing that I am a stubborn willful woman (OK, persevering and courageous on alternate Wednesdays). Thanks to you all for your ongoing support.


4 thoughts on “On Waking

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