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By John I. Blair

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.

©2003 John I. Blair

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