She wore birkenstocks without socks
in winter. Her cheeks mirrored the light
pink of her pressed blouse.
Five minutes of morning affirmations
and she would float to the top,
cream in a cup. The labyrinth of fear
disappeared; suffering was tossed
in a bag, sent down the river.
In the dentist chair she took vacations,
meditating at the edge of a lotus pond,
amid hundreds of orchids.
After the stroke, fate caved in.
A nurse with rhino skin fed her rice
and carrot mush, parked her in the hall,
in line with the others.
Take me back to bed, please take me to bed.
Silenced by a syringe,
with her best friend still inside,
she began to float again.
She always could picture a parking space
before leaving home, delighted when
a car pulled out right where
she wanted to be.