The Dusk Of Heroes/4th Floor Rehab Poem by Louise Marie DelSanto

Something in the way he joked:
'When I saw you, I thought, - you
are my nurse.'

The Rehab day began-
leg braces, thick foam supports
and his beautiful blue eyes

His faith in life
only broken momentarily,
in pensive thought
as he gathered new strength
smiling at me, passing out sunshine like a gift.

Such an effort to put on his socks,
a mountain climb to walk the
length of the corridor,
but always a pocketful of change
'for his grand-kids.'

He wanted to go out-
'Please, for a smoke'
and he began the story of his life:
his words wrapping around me like
his heavy red plaid jacket

Memories of Wyoming,
Sunday barbeques,
fancy ballroom dancing,
and a love affair with his wife.

' A good woman.'

Patience was never his he whined,
and he finished his last smoke.

Every step he took was another mile
First-the-bad-leg-then-the-good
leg-first-the-bad-leg-then-the-good
leg...

'You can do it, '

The morning sun angled over
his weathered face
his movements sharp, but careful.

'I like you, kid.'he told me,
touching my hand, wanting to say
one more thing.

' You will make it, '
I told him,
touching his yellow shirt and grey brush
cut, his steel blue eyes searing my heart.