Step-By-Step

This is a bit of a different piece I've done, partly a poem, partly a story.

A call for me,
as soon as a foot touched the floor, to balance and walk. A sweet call turns to a cry when I fall. When I’m pushed. Tomorrow, I will try again.

Legs shake in bed,
and reluctantly drop from the clean white sheets, to the cold hard floor. This work is too hard. A voice comes again, telling me to run from this place. Again, I stumble.

Too long in this bed.
A second operation is needed to remove me from its confines. My ears tire of the encouragement and “help.” This is too new an experience to be hastened by patronising calls. I must go step by step. My own, slow pace.

This shouting doesn’t help.

I love the night.
I have no need to, but my legs swing out without a shudder, haul up my torso, and lift me high. I must be sleeping, there is no light beyond the window, moonlit. No one knows. I will walk, by the star light,
Step by Step.