just another day

i study

the long scar healing

on my

leg

and wonder if the surgeon

remembers

how he

so easily

cut me open

beside the wide eyed

and too

young nurse

in white.

did he go to sleep that

night

with the image

of my

leg bleeding

under the bright lamp,

then stitching it all back

together,

to make it right.

or did he

just kiss his wife

goodnight,

and roll over

and go to sleep.