After Bob Hicok
The cartilage is gone.
I am left with some unfinished poems,
a stack of books and a Netflix account.
I remember thinking “I’ll just run.”
I remember the feeling in my legs,
the fire and cramp in the calves,
the tearing sensation in my groin.
I remember the day I was no longer young.
Screw nostalgia, I don’t need it.
My body got me out of some scrapes along the way,
it brought some incredible highs, took me to places
that still mystify. The highs and mystery remain,
it’s just the pace that’s changed.
My body keeps me grounded, Here, where I am in space,
where I am in relation to the smell of my wife’s hair, to sunlight,
coffee, life. Here, where it is fine to be right now.