My physical therapist advised:
“Hold for a minute,”
contorting me this way
and that way until I stretched
and held for another
long minute that seemed
to last forever redirecting
the pain I endured
if I tried to walk, stand,
or get in or out of a chair.
Minute by minute forecasts
were like minutes monitored
the night before D-Day,
before giving the order
to launch the largest
assault ever attempted
on the beaches of Normandy.
I’m committed to do battle
with the attack on my body
until I can luxuriate in moving
like the man I used to be.