One Poem by Barbara Leonhard with Photograph by Dieirik Leonhard

 

Photograph by Dieirik Leonhard

I Find Myself in a Field of Henbit

For years, knee pain & inflammation. Inactivity.

The pandemic. The lockdown. Grocery delivery. 

Rides in the car. Couldn’t walk far.

Knee sleeves. Pain patches. Handrails.

Good leg up. Bad leg down. But then—

the good leg swells & cries, as well.

Sciatica stretches like a spider down my legs.

It eats my sleep. I’m caviar on old bones.

My mood lays black tar in my path.

 

What’s happened to us? You ask.

No more hikes or bike rides?

One autumn day, you film your favourite hike 

along the Missouri River

so that I can see the path 

you created with a machete,

now part of the official trail. 

 

At last, in February, respite 

with physical therapy 

for my knees & back. 

An earlier surgery date in late May.

Laps with my walker on the driveway 

made me stronger.

 

Today, my second 3-mile hike 

with walking poles

on your favourite trail.

 

You clean the path before me, 

kick the stones aside.

 

Here is where —

I found that huge wasp hive.

That poor raccoon kit froze to death last winter.

I created a new direction for the path.

That young buck made stomp holes

to protest my presence.

The tornado came through. 

 

Watch out for the roots. 

This one looks like a snake.

This invasive hops species will take over 

everything & soon

the poison ivy will bloom.

Don’t touch that. It’s hemlock.

 

At the destination, California Island, 

revealed by low water. The place 

where you mine bags & bags 

of carnelian agates, petrified wood, 

fossil horse & camel teeth, 

& mammoth bones. Sometimes arrowheads.

 

Startled geese take flight off the island,

& vultures soar. Owls hoot though it’s day.

Across the river, a long train wails.

 

In the pink setting sun, 

I stand in a lush field of purple Henbit. 

I breathe in well-being. Gratitude for healing.

I am nurtured, ready to flourish.

 

Revised April 4, 2024

Barbara Leonhard is a retired ESL instructor. Her poetry has been published in various literary magazines and anthologies. She’s also written a poetry collection Three-Penny Memories: A Poetic Memoir (Experiments in Fiction, 2022), which is about her relationship with her mother, who suffered from Alzheimer’s. The book is a best-seller on Amazon. Barbara is also the Editor for MasticadoresUSA. She lives in Mid-Missouri with her husband and cat Jasper.