Posted tagged ‘“Last Legs”’

Last Legs

April 23, 2015


Last Legs

Your legs, at the last,
clearly would not last.
Skin worn thin,
vessels prodding the rim
as if already on their way
to somewhere else.

They could maybe sometimes briefly
but this was not the rite
of stance, where legs foot push
into the ground,
take root,
tow gravity.

These were legs whose flesh
caged wings
alternately frantic to take flight
or dejected, the inner bird slumped
against humped thigh, hinged knee,
the bone-scraped bar
of shin.

But what is it takes flight in death
when limbs sink
so heavily, when all falls
so gravely down?
I can only think of that bit
called last, what makes
legs last,
what we hope
will last,
even when it can’t be found
any longer, even as
we long for it.


Calling this a draft because it rhymes with last and because I just wrote it this morning before work.  For my own prompt on With Real Toads about “last legs”; this is some poem for some day in April, 2015 National Poetry month.  I appreciate the picture is perhaps not exactly right;  it is a light sculpture by my husband, Jason Martin.