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The Cane

An inanimate object, with no life or spirit.
Lacking consciousness or power of motion..
So, I talked to my hand, urging it to have the
strength to squeeze the grip on my cane with 
enough force to control it, in a direction I need to
travel. I put in a good word to my wrist, asking it
not to buckle under constant bend and pressure.
My arm, the muscle behind the whole operation.
I thanked it for having enough strength to hold my
ass up-right, bearing some upper weight, (a load
normally delegated to one's spine and back muscles),
promising an ample supply of protein to sustain it's
bulky mass. Not to ignore or suggest insignificants,
I thanked my cane for being long and sturdy, having
a nice grip to hold, and always wearing a rubber.

by Barry Anderson