Poetry Porch: Poetry


By Sheila A. Murphy

After the fall that snapped
her hip like a brittle old branch,
a shoulder shattered too when she slipped on a slipper.

Ever after, she looked longingly at the languishing limbs
of a cat named Loki after his air-free carefree leap
to shred sheer curtains or swipe at a sunbeam.

Walking and weight-lifting, swimming and stretching,
she would become as loose and limber
as eighty-three could be.

She marveled at babies, their drive to
roll over and crawl, walk and climb,
swing and skate, seesaw and swim,
climb and dive, sail and row,
to conquer barriers that
could not limit or halt
them, or her,

until one day
one word

Copyright © 2020 by Sheila A. Murphy.