A Change of Pace
He staggers,
where once he counted steps
he now counts unsteady footfalls.
Life has become a minor earthquake
an aftershock still trembling
at the core of a wincing mind.
Many years ago, auntie had a stroke,
she careened to a halt,
yet carried on, speaking from deep within
a drainpipe language.
He was doing well, it was just the shakes,
a hesitancy in his gait.
He stopped drinking,
stopped falling down self-made trapdoors,
grasped for firmer handholds.
However, he knew
that he was a paper straw
and it sucked.
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