I don’t move so much these days.

But I am more aware of movement.

My chair feels like an island

 In a sea of people.

The flood of bodies ebbing and flowing,

Like the ocean’s tides.

My own body is

Rusted joints,

Lost screws,

Rotting and fraying

At the seams.

But my mind has only become more alive

And it moves with speed and grace.

My thoughts leap and gallop

Like gazelles,

Flutter aimlessly

Like butterflies,

Dive and splash 

Like dolphins.

All the things my body can no longer do.

I am confined by this cage of flesh

Which I once revered as a powerful vessel

that obeyed my every whim and fancy.

Alas, it is more stubborn now,

like an ornery mule that must be 

cajoled and prodded into motion.