I was a coward when young, and weak —
let me admit it. I shunned distress
of any kind, ran from fights, retreated
into books or daydreams, even fainted
when no other escape opened.
Pain came into my middle life
like a strange dog walking in an open door
with a look that says, I’m home.
He follows me, sometimes trips me,
and when I forget him, I don’t forget:
he sits nearby and watches with patient eyes.
At least he’s faithful, unlike my lost pet ease.
Seems to be a continuation of the 4/24 theme, at least in the opening lines.