Ted suffered a series of strokes in his sixties,
resulting in slurred speech and a left shoe
whose sole scraped over every surface.
Ted was a visual artist who worked
with me at the sewage plant,
but still needed five more years
for retirement.
After the stroke there was
only one picture he could draw:
a pencil sketch of a lone pine tree
beside a rocky stream with dirt road
winding toward a distant mountain range.
Ted drew his picture slowly, breathing deeply
like a draft horse, for everyone who asked
if he still drew.
I’ve got one of Ted’s landscapes.
In the middle distance,
just beyond the pine tree
and bend of the winding river,
I took the liberty of
penciling in a figure of Ted,
dragging his bad left foot
five more years to the top of that mountain.
Andy Roberts is the author of nine collections of poetry. His most recent book is My Favorite Failures (Half Inch Press 2025). His work has appeared in American Life In Poetry, Atlanta Review, Fulcrum, Lake Effect, The Midwest Quarterly, Roanoke Review, and Slipstream. He lives in Columbus, Ohio where he handles finances for disabled veterans.