Rolling on she goes
pushed by her big brother,
she can’t stand
she can’t walk
she can’t move.
I watch the two
talking, joking, laughing
this time so sweet
but there was a sour side
like the sour key candy she loved to eat.
Those last two bitter months:
in hospital — chiseled bone, two screws in place
then home — five formidable weeks in bed
and now — hobbling towards health.
He pushes her
keeping her smiling
keeping her safe
keeping her buoyant.
I walk in her ghostly place
My legs now able to carry me
to buy sour keys.
Her memory encased in mine
I watch her enter the corner store,
come out,
and repeat.
She’s walking now,
we walk together.
The sour keys await.
I go into the store and get some
before looking around
and leaving.
I don’t see her this time.