Skoney, a diabetic amputee who was
also mute and partially blind, epitomized “down, but not out.” My hospice
volunteer experiences with him at the nursing home inspired me to write “World
Champion,” a poem about his long-distance death journey. Although Skoney endured
several close calls with death, he repeatedly overcame them until he eventually
died one day. Observers couldn’t understand why he didn't give up sooner.
Didn’t he know that death would make him free? Because he had no legs and was
such a determined survivor, I viewed him as an Olympic marathon runner.
World
Champion
Your
bedridden body
wins
survival marathons,
breaks
records in life's
Olympic
Games.
I touch
your skeletal chest,
feel
spirit of an aging heart
that
outruns the Grim Reaper
in
back-to-back wins.
Some pity
your amputated legs,
anguished
moans, unexpected
comebacks
when death
competes
with bare existence.
No one
claps or cheers
for your
personal-best pace
toward the
final race
when you
clear each hurdle.
They don't
understand
why you
won't give up
when you
defend each challenge
to clock
more blocks of time.
Your laps
for life press onward
as you
struggle to the finish,
grin like
a world champion
each time
you grab the gold.
© Frances
Shani Parker
Frances Shani Parker, Author
Becoming Dead Right: A Hospice Volunteer in Urban Nursing
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