It’s been a bit of a rough morning
I didn’t sleep well
I was blessed by god, with a broken back
Not truly broke, but not in good working order
These damaged nerves, sciatica is to blame
So I spent the morning hobbling around
Aided by an often needed cane
Finally, I succumb to the pain
And down some Advil
These little helpers who will tear at my gut all day long
Last night I made plans for today
I was going to ride my bike
To a recently discovered marsh
I had planned on spending the whole day exploring, writing
And drinking some wine
I get so excited about these new finds
That I pace my house all night
But, as it often goes
My back doesn’t feel like cooperating
I’m left bent and only a shade from crippled
So while the meds kick in, I wonder around, looking for something
Anything, to waste my time
I finally decide on reading yesterdays mail
I skim past the bills and useless realtor sales pitches
Until I come across a hand written envelope
Addressed from a friend, and sent from the CCWF
A friend, who I haven’t seen or heard from
In a painfully long time
They caught her in ’09
trafficking, they said
She loved the pills
So much so, that I have trouble believing
She would ever give them up
Yet alone sell them
But they got her
And she’s been parked in Chowchilla, California
Pretty much ever since
I had trouble reading it
She was the last person I expected
I would be catching up with, this morning
She wrote of how she had been
And how she was sorry she hadn’t written sooner
She writes of our times camping and hiking
And how she hopes I’m still at it
Finally, she closes with a line
About how she would like to hear from me
She still has a long time, ahead of her
And I wish I could speed that up
After I finish the letter
I make my way to the typewriter
I sit down, and put in a piece of paper
But nothing comes to mind
Too many things to say
And all this causes more discomfort
So I get up, without thinking
Grab the backpack I packed last night
And head out to the marsh
I need to clear my head
And cloud it, all at the same time
She would enjoy this spot
I just know it
And I’ll finish my letter to her
By telling her, how we’ll see it together
When she gets out
Sometime after 2029
© Dicky J Loweman 2015