We sometimes wait to be told before we move.
She didn’t.
She moved anyway.
🚶
I pushed my feet,
in, and out. In, and out.
Against a treadmill,
Worn and torn.
To nowhere.
‘How’d I do?” I asked.
No answer.
A blank stare.
“How did I do?” I asked.
No answer.
I shifted my feet.
🚶🚶
Sessions passed.
Silence after silence.
Week after week.
My feet moved.
Toes pushing, faster.
I waited. And waited. ‘
When will I walk?’
No answer.
🚶🚶🚶
Week after week.
Month after month.
Not answers, but questions.
Not speech, but silence.
She moves, mouth closed.
I wait, wide-eyed.
Then, my feet moved faster.
I was not stuck.
I was stuck –
Waiting.
🚶🚶🚶🚶
So I stood.
I walked, out of the room.
She looked.
In stoic silence.
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