To Margaret on a Monday

I saw you from my window, Margaret.
I was watching the seagulls swooping the sky.
The seagulls, I was telling myself, know
today is a day for trying out the wingspan.
And then I saw you moving uphill
climbing a step at a time, alone.
Some young girls and boys
passed you, afraid
to offer help
in the face of so much courage.
They could not, yet, understand it.
An older man, moving slowly himself,
stopped as to have the privilege
of walking beside you.
He knew enough already to see
that he had a lot to learn from you.
I looked up again for the seagulls.
I did not need them anymore, though.
Their gliding and joy were, I could see –
without their assistance now –
no greater than your own. Man flies higher than any bird
and in spite of the force of gravity.
I would not have known, precisely,
what brought me to the front of the house
if I had not happened to see you,
going up the hill
as if it was easy.