My heart used to beat in the swift,
sharp tap of my high heels,
pecking out the rhythm of my blood. Now
heart and feet are out of step,
out of tune: my halting, muffled feet
pluck painful notes, to the percussion
of two sticks; a patter of uncertain rain.
But the heart does not break
when bones do. It holds firm
at the core, sound as an apple,
candid as a barn owl's
heart-shaped, apple-slice face.
My heart still hammers out the powerful beat
That used to find expression in my feet.
Valerie Laws
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-heart-does-not-break-when-bones-do/
