Postmeditation (Solitude)
“In my solitude I’ve seen very clearly things that aren’t so.” — Antonio Machado
Concentrated solitude
Like mining and sifting carefully for precious metals
Open solitude
Like carelessly draining the water table
Causing the earth to fall in on itself
A sinkhole devouring haphazardly
My vision blurs
Creating gnarled and knotted hands in my lap
Bones elongated and emaciated
Joints swollen like balloons
Fingers at misshapen angles
Feet puffed up appearing squeezed into shoes
My grandmothers extremities
Have replaced my own
By the end of it
My hands are aching from overuse
My feet tight and stretched to translucency
Paralysis is surely soon to follow
Oh wait!
Paralysis of vision, movement, attention
Is exactly what started all this mess
–by Me
My Grandmother’s Hands by Robert Hambrick
sometimesihatemycat 
superb – the self-recognition throughout and at the end