Day One

She broke her leg
running  to yoga
missing the last stair step,
my mother

with intramedullary nails,
out of surgery and resting
only for awhile,
she tries to stand the first chance she can get,
my mother

I help her drink a cup of broth,
bring her rye bread
instead of a plant,
feel numb observing and listening
to nurses and doctors,
and in a hospital bed,
my once fast-walking mother.

Tonight we see each other

in the window in her room.

I tell her tomorrow the sun
is going to shine all day. 

How is it that I feel snow
falling on me and onto
my mother?