I have had so many people tell me how taken they were with Helen McHargue's poem, a poem triggered by her thoughts about her late sister after a fight with her own equilibrium. I don't want to keep copying if for people, since it is squirreled away in a far off corner of the blog presently but not really so easy to find. I am touched that so many of you were touched by her wisdom and eloquence.
The beauty and brilliance of her poem is easy to grasp. Once again.
Walking straight.
A challenge? Who would guess?
The brilliance of our gyroscope -
Its praises unsung, is a quiet miracle.
I stagger now and list left-wise.
Loopily, my destinations reached.
But I see eyebrows raised…
My aura broadcasts “Oddball”
Aging brings gifts in its wrinkled basket.
Becoming invisible was an unexpected pleasure.
Different again - I’m sticking out.
Looking crazy, looking drunk.
What did you say? I can’t hear you either.
Whisper something in the good ear.
Something kind.
© Helen McHargue
