Flesh Wound

After the storm

we find us

once again strewn on a distant shore


tending bruises


Yet this time

I lost a leg

my left

Luckily my least favourite

because of the toe deformity
You know I would have yelled

to high heaven if my right was gone

I would have blamed you for everything

The inclement weather

The rocks that smashed the bow

The words that deflated the life boat
But I stay quiet

I barely have a leg to stand on

After the storm

32 thoughts on “Flesh Wound”

      1. Oh thanks! I appreciate you coming back to say that – thought I may have lost you to the ether of elsewhere writings. In this piece there is a silver lining and optimism – I got to keep my good leg! What are you up to tonight? Burning the midnight oil?

        Liked by 1 person

  1. Very nice! πŸ™‚
    I like the metaphors and the power of your words in describing relationship fallout, but especially how you counterpointed the gravity with levity. ‘Barely a leg to stand on,’ awesome πŸ™‚
    Unless you’re dating Jerry Seinfeld a deformed toe just gives character. πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Such scars we carry, traded for sweet moments of adventure into unknown waters. Yet I think, perhaps naively, that it is better to arrive at the end without even the favourite limb when losing it would allow one to bring such a body of stories to tell.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. So well said; I am entirely of the same opinion. Sometimes battle weary but the sweet moments are always worth every moment. And yes the experience let’s the words just spill.


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