Rolling With the Punches

The last thing my doctor said to me as I walked out the door Remember you’re not twenty, dear you’re almost seventy-four As I turned to leave I thought to myself it won’t be such a chore My sister and her cat moved first, I had a week, no more… But the next day I got the call, there’d be no help for me My help left town, my best friends too, my sister twisted her knee So, for a week I pushed and pulled, packed all that I could see The movers came but overbooked, so in a rush they’d be! The doctor’s words rang in my ears, I said, I can do it all But in the last moment with box in hand, I crashed into a wall I cracked a rib, it took my breath, but at least I did not fall Bruised and battered a week has passed and life rises to the call… Through the pain there came a voice, said your tale needs to be penned I’m settling in and in this week, I’ve made a special friend… While quietly sitting on the couch, looking out one sunny day The cutest little squirrel stopped by, said “This is where I stay.” He ate his nut and laid belly down, it was too hot to play Had a quick nap, said his goodbye, then he went on his way… I like this place, I’ll settle soon, and once more pick up my pen With time and lots of pain killers I will actually breathe again!