The Back Remembers

The load

was bigger than the back.

The man

was under it.

A back

does not bend in a morning.

Carry the load.

Set it down.

Carry it again.

One day

climbed onto the back,

and another day

settled on top of that.

I

painted that back.

One straight line

would not make a bent back.

I drew one more line.

And another.

The more lines there were

the heavier the back looked.

“There are too many lines.

Let me erase a few.”

The porter

turned his back away

so the brush could not reach it.

“Leave them.”

I looked at him.

“Those are what I have carried here.”

I did not erase the lines.

After a moment

the porter leaned forward.

One foot

came out.

The load

followed.

The other foot

took the weight.

Under the load,

one step.

And then

another step.

Beneath the load

two feet

came forward, one after the other.