December Weather

crickets chirp softly
the rain trickles down the trees
heater smells drift up

Sidewalk Notes

when the whistling wind
blows soft and fierce and hasty
crisp leaves tumble by

Wet and Brown and Broken

All the leaves strewn on the ground
Wet and brown and broken.
Crossing the street, I left a trail
Twin stripes of shining blacktop.

I found a tree stripped of its leaves
Stark naked in the sun.
A bed of autumn dampness at its feet
I took the meager comfort offered.

The cold presses against my skin
The wind peels it away.
Resting in the shade of spiny branches
Shadows of skeletal fingers.

Public Service Announcement

If you’ve worked twelve hours and your feet are slick, be careful getting in the shower. You might slip and fall and maybe even pull the handle off the shower door. 

Apparently falling in the bathroom is an annual thing for me now. But at least no concussion this time!

Also, I finally got my spiro about 26 hours after dropping the prescription off. 

Bad Vibrations

I fell in the bathroom six hours ago. Way to go me, right? 

It took a while to lose the fuzziness of the concussion, but it’s much nicer now that I don’t feel like I’m about to start drooling. 

You know what really sucks, though? A jerky, vibrating CT scan with a concussion. When you have to lie on the swollen side of your head. The bouncing was not fun.

I also injured my ankle a bit. Got some X-rays of that bad boy.

And I only had to announce my LMP and explain my fertility status seven times so far this ER visit.

I’ll keep you posted on the rest of my miserable weekend–because I will definitely be sore tomorrow. When I fall, I do it right.

The Nose on My Knee

We went for a walk.
I remember the cattle guards lining the sides of the road:
every driveway,
every entrance.
I never saw a cow on the road.
They must work.

We were walking home.
I tripped and fell.
I’ve always been clumsy like that.
A rock pierced my knee.
My mother carried me the rest of the way home.
All the way home.
I stared at my leg
and the blood trickled down.
All the way down.
I wasn’t wearing socks.
I stared at the tongue of my shoe:
one red stain at the center.
Such a straight line of blood
all the way down
my leg.

I’d never seen
so much of my own blood.

I still have the scar.

It looks like a nose.