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)
