Walking Stick

Gently she crawls

on hard wood floor

seeking something lost

in a corner.

Scabbed knee

and splinered fingers,

torn hem

and scuffed shoe,

her journey

into the past.

Under the dresser

her long arm

lands upon

the solid dowel.

Whittled here,

carved there

dark wood

etched with symbols,

a life once lived.

Once a cane,

supporting dreams

carrying hearts.

She rises now

holds it to her own

and sighs.