When I was nine
on the playground
at school
I tried to jump from
the cemented tire
of an overturned
volleyball net pole
to grasp
the tallest of the
uneven bars
I missed
landing hard
in the packed sand
an audible snap
white-hot pain
my classmates gasping
look at your arm
look at your arm
a curious indention
there in the middle
the teacher’s face
turning the color
of Silly Putty
cradling my arm
in both of her hands
ushering me to the office
getting me a chair
calling my father
the school nurse
affixing a splint
and sling
cold waves of nausea
I’m going to throw up
a trashcan dragged over
it’s ok, you’re in shock
just use this
um, no
and how mad
is Daddy going to be?
He enters the office
with that furrowed brow
speaking first to my teacher
and then to the nurse
and then to me,
gently
Hi, Honey…
and that’s when
I cry
(to be continued)
lit bits and pieces 
Fran, I’m right there with you! I can see this unfolding in real time. My left arm – I broke it riding a strange horse bareback; right arm- falling off a ladder and lying about how it happened for fear I wouldn’t be allowed to go to my friend’s house again. Awesome topic today!
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Oh, Kim – what stories, two broken arms, and in spite of the pain thinking up a tale so you wouldn’t be forbidden to go to your friend’s house-! I had to think about what led me back to reliving this experience. Lots of metaphor – kind of tied it all up in my spiritual journey post.
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Great beginning! You sound like a dare devil, but I remember feeling invincible when I was young, also. I can hear the snap and feel your pain. I can feel the teacher’s anxiousness. “Silly Putty” is perfect! I like the repetition from your classmates. I love “I’m going to throw up.” I see your father’s “furrowed brow.” That was a good ending and I defenitely want to turn the page. Suspenseful, realistic, and great voice! Yes, your three poems flow well together and are good stand-alone poems, also. Great, keep going. 🙂
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