Katherine M. Clarke
WHEN I COULD WALK
After Edward Hirsch, "The Sweetness"
The times my failing body and I could walk
come back to me now: strolls by the Charles River,
ambles through Harvard Square …
Magnolias waved and buskers' antics
delighted our summer nights, companions
as we roamed and wandered.
Remember the bags of groceries muscled
from porch, to countertop, to cupboards?
We made a dinner, we made a life.
Wasn't that us sliding into a bath, slipping
into fresh sheets, moving as we wanted,
with whom we wanted, when we wanted?
They come back to me now, dear body of mine,
the times when I could walk and loved you more.