Poetry | Ode to a Knee Replacement

Ode to a Knee Replacement listen
For the toes
of the oak to touch
the sky, she’d have to
lean into the swing, boughs
kicking high.
	For the green
ash to fall off her
bicycle, her branches
would have to swivel
wildly like pinwheels
to come away scraped
and scabbed and subtly
scarred.
	For the spruce
to climb mountains
and ladders and stairs,
flexion and extension
and some slight rota-
tion would come into
play.
	For the redwood
to dance or make
love, limbs would need
to bow and dip, a little
twist and twine to
keep a lively time.
	For the birch
to laugh or grieve
her stance must double
over and if
	the cedar
has to pray, her trunk
ought to fold in just
the pulpy places.
	For the sugar maple
at last to have a lap,
she’d have to bend
at the girth and
knots, and to be
polite, we could offer
a chair and wait
for her to tell
the whole story.