Thank you, knees
for elasticity that bounced me up
a thousand times while learning to walk,
for healing a hundred times from gravel
and skateboards and bikes,
for looking, well, not too bad
in shorts and bathing suits
in front of girls in high school.
I'm grateful, knees, for your heroic --
if not always sucessful -- efforts
to keep me erect after climbing down'
from barstools. And then when I finally changed
to healthier addictions
for taking the pounding of marathon miles.
I appreciate you, knees, for not shaking too much
when standing in front of crowds to speak,
for supporting my weight when kneeling to pray,
and, twice, to propose.
And now, I beg your fogiveness, knees
for totally ignoring you and making you sit
bent and immobile under desks,
for letting you grow still on the couch too much.
So now you ache incessently and stab me
should I dare to stoop, to wear my trousers rolled.
But I will not complain, dear knees,
for you have served me well, so I will just say,
"Thanks." And take another aspirin.