Dearly Beloved
Direct observation along the Arkansas Riverwalk
By Doris Dembosky, Westcliffe, CO
An old man pushes an elderly woman
in a wheelchair. He leans into his task
as if into a headwind.
His age-spotted hands grip
the handles of the chair.
He lifts his head to judge the distance
along the hard-pack, riverside path.
Taking a deep breath, he gathers
strength and thinks,
“I can make it to the Cottonwood.”
Pausing, he calls the woman’s attention
to the geese idling at the river’s edge.
He wishes he were afloat – at his ease.
He’d like to wipe the sweat from his brow,
but his wife might take it as a sign of fatigue.
He should probably chat with her –
make some conversation. Comment
on the weather … remind her that later
they’ll stop at McDonald’s
for the free senior citizen coffee.
Finally, the turnaround!
Reaching up over her shoulder,
she pats her husband’s hand.
“Please! It’s my turn!”
And with that, the wife
hoists herself up out of the chair.
She watches her husband struggle:
he doesn’t want to sit – to be pushed.
Women sit. Men push.
Smoothing down her dress, she cajoles,
“Sweetheart, please, let me take a turn.”
She steadies the wheelchair, and
her husband sits heavily. He hangs his head –
a small boy’s shameful hang.
Pushing him back toward the car,
she reflects that each week he weighs less.
The flowers have faded.
The golden grass is going to seed.
She draws his attention to the geese.
“Look, they’re taking off!
Flying south… wings beating as one!”
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