Becky

 And He walks with me

Often I reflect upon her in the perpetual chair

From a teen resigned to dwell there

One wrong overturn consigning

To a sitting suspension

Of what man was destined 

To sweep her off her feet

When now not knowing if 

The feet are even asleep 

Not even a tingle

No pain 

Just dangling below

Constant reminder 

If only the curve was taken slow.