i see you limp
towards me, still
not healed from
the cut of the
surgeon's knife
to fix your broken
foot. it's a heavy
walk, a lean, a
cautious stroll
with a crutch
across the street
to greet me. it's
taken the fun
out of you, this
injury that won't
quit. and i have
no magic wand,
no words or tenderness
can ease you of
the pain. it worries
me more than you know.