Standing Tall

Bony knobs on two tall trees,

Faint white hairs and scabby knees.

Calves like angles drawn in maths

Glide lithe steps up rugged paths.

Thighs of steel and hams like meat

Help me beat a quick retreat.

Callused toes dig in the ground

As my feet on pavement pound.

Crouching down to pass a ball

And wedged in Spanx when suitors call –

How could I live, I often ask

Without my legs to bear the task?

For me they are not sticks but stones;

Earthly beasts with marble bones.

Perhaps there are some girls who could

Live wheelchair bound with canes of wood.

As for me, I must confess

That sitting down, I’m in duress.

Without my legs, I’d not survive;

I’d be a duck, I couldn’t jive.

So thus it is I’m forced to say

Without my legs I’d waste away.