How You Hurt Your Leg

You say an old injury has resurfaced
to haunt you; it hurts to flex your leg.
So, you have been out of touch.

Understand: if it were my leg
I would have obtained crutches,
hopped, strapped it tight and taken drugs

with side-effects, somehow got in touch. It hurts,
but I know how to bend stubborn things,
can force my limbs beyond past wounds.

Some breaks heal poorly, knit into crooked bone;
you want to be seen whole and sturdy as an oak
as though someone once fled your damaged limbs.

It costs you to admit to this bad leg.
In my dream you are resting on a gnarled stump
beside the path; you rise, begin to limp forward.

Anna Evans

If you've any comments about this poem, Anna Evans would be pleased to hear from you.