Across the Mountains
We are to be on the early flight I called after answering a late in the day call. You managed that; even rumbled up to the nurses station in a hospital right across the country. No one expected you upright, on your feet. Two days later that mountain began erupting. But I couldn’t say if it was the same day they operated on you. Smoke and haze drifted as far as that city and beyond. Your wound weeping. You thought the attention was on you. Well it was and it wasn’t; but a fair amount of it was and then we flew back home, on the far side of the mountain. The mountain smoked itself out and settled down. The wound healed. But what else did it premise. Never fully explained. We adjusted our bodies as lovers do when both had been lusty and able and then both remain lusty but one is not quite so able. They have one on one workshops for this sort of thing. In the workshops we laughed a little; alone we cried a little. You got used to the wheelchair. I got used to the wheelchair until one day the wheelchair was no long here and neither were you. The mountain is in the news again; rumoured to erupt. I’ll never be as close to that mountain as I was on the flight home. I still wonder how you walked up to the nurses station that day.
Benita H. Kape (c) 2.4.2022
“And last but not least, our optional prompt! I got this one from a workshop I did last year with Beatrix Gates, and I’ve found it really helpful. The prompt is based on Robert Hass’s remarkable prose poem, “A Story About the Body.” The idea is to write your own prose poem that, whatever title you choose to give it, is a story about the body. The poem should contain an encounter between two people, some spoken language, and at least one crisp visual image.”