5/9/26 (c)
I remember
brushing off the dirt,
rubbing my knees, crying,
then standing.
My friend survived leg bone cancer—
for a decade now
has limped, a cane for balance.
Another, wheelchair bound,
removes prosthetic legs
at the bar for comfort.
A single misstep can set me back two years.
Together, we stand
though we do not easily stand.
