So far itís nothing I canít bear;
Iíll swear, but stay in motion
(Maybe limping, maybe weaving
Just a bit as I walk across the room).
In truth right now itís mostly hands;
Tomorrow may be legs and feet again
(A part of looming old age I am told).
If this were all I faced I wouldnít care;
At facing pain Iím fairly bold.
Whatís hard is losing joy,
Sometimes from familiarityó
From having been there
Too many times alreadyó
And sometimes from despair
At my constant grieving
As I see how my beloved suffers
On her halting way through
Yet another pain-filled day.