My
son's crutches
leave
double circles
on the
wood floor,
marks
that show
where
he's been,
sometimes
stuck,
suctioned
for a moment,
to one
place.
He
moves on, though,
like
we do,
leaving
part of us
on the
distances
we've
traveled.
But
what of
these
wounds, so old
they
should have
healed
by now?
We
continue,
cracked
and crumbling,
accepting
fractured roads
bearing
us up
and
all the scars
we're
made of.
12 comments:
I truly hope all will become well_!
"and all the scars we're made of."
The scars that have made us all.
_m
Beautiful!!
p.s. hope the injury is nothing too serious and he will soon be running instead of hopping:)
Great write, what an interesting contrast!
We are made of scars, some deeply hidden ~ I thought your choice of title is intriguing though ~
He has three torn ligaments in his right ankle. He had surgery on December 30 and is healing up nicely!
"all the scars we're made of." Indeed, praise God for the healed parts.
A really thought provoking extended metaphor ... an awesome write!
I was relieved reading the comments that it was temporal... Maybe an experience to carry along that will be worth more than the pain it costs.
So profound, e.g.,
We continue,
cracked and crumbling,
accepting fractured roads
bearing us up
and all the scars
we're made of.
V. observant (e.g., "leave double circles") and wonderful word choices throughout (e.g., "suctioned for a moment").
It's a tough lesson to learn. Makes us thankful for the healing.
I thought I had commented here before, but guess not. my younger son sprained his foot over NYE, and was sporting crutches last week, I think as much for sympathy as function.
that is a hell of a close ~
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