THEY ARE STILL IN LOVE
By Craig Schnase, Army
Writing Type: Poem
He in the back seat with his wheelchair,
She at the wheel.
With a grimace on her face, she steps out of the car,
Walks to the back to open the door for him.
He doesn't want to get out.
She is a short, robust-looking woman, her dress is flowered,
Her hair is gray, a hump on her back, perhaps from years of toil.
Her body has a strange lean to the left... somewhat like a cartoon character.
""Come on now. I said, get out of the car, get out of the car.""
He is slow to move.
She is angry now.
""Come on, come on, get out.
You can do it, I know you can, hurry up.""
She's pulling on his arm; he is edging slowly toward the door.
An orderly offers to help; she wants no part of that.
She says, ""Get away from me, I can do it. I know I can,
I always do it.""
The wheelchair stands there waiting for its charge.
She is pulling harder now, lifting, pulling, shouting,
""Lift with your legs, lift with your legs, you can do it.""
Suddenly, he slides into the chair,
All this time not one word uttered.
She wheels him in through the emergency roon1 door.
Several minutes later she returns to park her car.
The orderly and others standing by watch her
As she drives to the far end of the lot for there are no places close by.
On return, she is running as fast as she can,
With that lean to the side, and her face fixed on her audience.
In passing she shouts, ""And just think, I am two years younger than him.""
One observer comments, ""Boy, was she mad at him.""
The orderly calmly replies, ""No, she loves him very much.