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"Poetry is the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash." Leonard Cohen

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Day 3's Small Stone for Summer's River of Stones

The Fall

Such a silly accident
Standing on a couch
Trying to hang a picture
My foot slipped between
Two cushions and suddenly
I pitched forward and crashed
Against the sofa’s front board

Smashing my leg hard enough
To break it – my leg that is

I didn’t, luckily, but oh the bruising
And the cut – and the subsequent
Pooling of blood, and swelling
From just below the knee
To the tip of my toes
I look gangrenous

It wouldn’t be so drastic
I suppose, if I weren’t preparing
To fly across the world for ten hours
In two days – doctors caution me
Me; say I have to wear
Special stockings, walk around
Up in the air ... oh my
All because I took a header ...


  1. Bless your heart, Sharon. I hope you have fun anyway.

  2. Yuk! But as I am reading these backwards, I'm glad to know it didn't seem to slow you up much once you arrived.


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