her broken wrist,
the hard
cast.
the slip and fall on
the front
step.
dry as bone, she says.
no rain,
or ice,
not a flake of snow.
and yet
i lost my grip.
and as i lay there,
she says.
feeling the pain
run
up my arm like
electricity,
i noticed how blue
the sky was this morning.
not a single
cloud
could i see, lying on
my back
in the grass. i felt young
again,
almost alive once
more,
strangely.
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