The Speed of Mice

Hal Sirowitz

When the Parkinson’s medication
wears down, I turn into Cinderella.
My means of transportation
slows down to the speed of
a pumpkin pulled by mice.
My shoes still fit my feet.
But I take them off. They
make too much noise as
I drag them across the floor.

View Comments (0)

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.