Olga S. Hardman

What a relief!
He says its o.k.
Good, actually.

This is the fifth time
Sliced open by a scalpel
In a shiny, bright room.

What do they do with worn-out,
Overused parts?
Its hard to contemplate parts of my own skeleton
Heedlessly thrown in a trash can.

But now I feel like celebrating!
Dont know whether to fly down the road in my new car -
Or have a cocktail.

Think Ill just thank my Creator for another chance -
To walk through a field of daisies,
Stand up to hug a friend,
Or put a comb through the coat of my precious Westie.

Yesterday I was 74
But now that the physical therapy is almost over
I feel good as new -
Im born again.

©2002 Olga S. Hardman