By Victoria Crawford
My toes once clutched pool edge
curled bird claws
teetering betwixt
excitement and fear,
racing dive or belly flop?
At home with palliative care
needles and pills,
I trace ceiling cracks
shapeless void
eyes closed and open
Mimosa leaves wave
through windows
one morning
I wake to the delight
of no pain
the novelty of twitching
fingers and toes
Two years on,
I wiggle my toes
pool edge, bright water
racing dive or belly flop?
Victoria Crawford began writing poetry during a two year recovery period following a stroke. Her poems have appeared in journals such as Blood and Thunder.