Disability, a bitter wintry storm,
constricts movement, freezes
intentions; intervals of icy peril.
I push against the onslaught,
will exert myself for promises
of toddler-sized embraces, live
for the sunny exuberance of
a grandchild’s laughter – am
momentarily revived; warmth
cut short by the tangled web
of instability defined by this
chaos – am learning to choose
battles; even the most mundane
tasks crippled by complications;
I live short-term, close to home;
bed, the only sanctuary I know,
awaits beyond the banks of
accumulated debris, pushed
aside in my haste for progress;
I am like a baby, startle easy,
sleep lightly, comfort elusive;
I am smothered by protective
measures overstated; sealed
in a plastic bubble, suffocating.
Difficult not to be snowbound
when disability’s frigid tempest
unleashes it heartless blast.
(Image: www.alabamawx.com)