Vine

I'm my father's only child

Now he needs a cane

The joints that once held me high

Have grown fragile with age

Tendons, ripped and worn

Wrap around ceramic

Like a vine on a lattice

Climbing, growing, strong

Janet locks her fingers

A woodpecker on the bough

Reciprocated strength, yet

I know it wears her out

Tribulations in my future

I'm beginning to comprehend

The ache and burden of knowledge

Weigh on my bones while it can

Because I am so very young

To feel so physically perturbed

I look to my last legs

And realize they're my first

He beams me a smile, his hands

On the walker by the door

The man I see before me

Is the same as before

Yet the clouds under his eyes

Billow into the afternoon

And the crows feet, once silent

Whisper to me, "soon"

The time has not come

Though it has never stopped

And will continue to wind

It's way through the wynd

All the way to the end

Leaving behind

The sturdy wooden structure

That supports the ever growing vine