Will I walk again,
Tillie mumbled,
lost in the fog of
her knee operation.
The surgeon predicted
she'd toss her cane away
in two months.
Still in a fog, she asked
if she'd walk the way
she walked before,
with the same locomotion,
as her husband called it,
a walk he studied
through binoculars
behind lace curtains
from the upstairs window
sitting in his wheelchair
as she strolled through
the garden, picking a
bouquet, creating another
sunrise in his day.
Donal Mahoney