Chiropractor Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Chiropractor

Her hand moves around me
As my hand seeking wall.

Both of us search for cane
She works to run a life
I need help to get up…

No feeling whatever
Unless times when she
Moves my hand to chest, butt
Or her sides which are warm
Also soft…

Dose she too feel the touch?

I wonder…maybe not
What she does is just job
Like butcher and the knife
Not thinking of gone life
And motions and the walks!