Looking Over My Shoulder

I saw myself today
   Couched in another man's body,
Slightly bent
              But cheery,
Struggling to prize himself
                    Out of the chair,
Taking a breath before the
            First tentative movement,
Spreading his arms, looking
                 For balance and purchase,
And the final push, the
        Grunting effort, the hopeful,
Determined look followed by
                    The swaying, steady
Move to the upright-
The wobble at the almost
        There moment- and
The final chuckle of success.

And I'm still looking back
        To my nineteenth birthday,
Writing my last will and testament
             In a positive haze, (as you do at nineteen!)
A jest, yet also a wry hope of cheating age.

And then we left together
Walking into the darkness
And another man's fist.

I think I'll try Pilates
   or yoga in the New Year.