It was nothing, at first

A little less energy

A little more illness

Just another normal

In a busy life

It transformed

To sickness

A parade of hospitals

And treatments

With time passing onward

Years were suspended

A kind of in-between

My body slowly returning

An awkward perennial

Trying to bloom again

But damage was done

Impossible to ignore

As I face

Future old age

Coming to visit already

The memory of stories

Of Aches and pains on rainy days

As I work my fingers back

To mobility

From their painful start

Looking at my hands

Is a reminder:

Of a body growing old

Faster than it should

Still pushing

To overcome ~ Caroline A. Slee