Soreness

I woke this morning with numbness in my fingers
That came from my shoulder’s arthritic stingers
It is by the stretch of something that shouldn’t
Stretch beyond what I thought I couldn’t
And so, I’m proud of this, this precious sore
For it is work to strengthen to the core
This body that I let go to waste and age
When it need not be the end nor last page
That was written when I had the busy excuse
And I told myself, my mind was only thing of use