Difference
When I ripped
My ACL I wrote verses
With my last breath,
Cynic quips
About despair and nurses—
A season lost to PT
And hope at best:
Such were the curses
Hanging over me:
The glory of the rope
My probable synecdoche.
My wife, more quick
Than me,
In the same clinic,
And with just the same
Occlusion in her knee,
But inclined
To trust, simply
Had a stem cell shot,
And that afternoon
Went home
And, very soon,
Got well.
January 15th, 2020
Explanation
I don’t think I would have written this poem or chosen this subject had I been conscious. But it came to me in my sleep and I woke up and wrote it down.