Whooping Crane

Your strong and gentle arm is broken
and encased in a white canvas
begging for autographs
and scribbled wishes for recovery—
or art that could turn your fingers
into the beak of a whooping crane—
but you are not the kind of man
who likes attention
drawn to the shape of your injuries—
and you wouldn’t want to become
a whooping crane as suggested
by the woman you used to love
because you don’t need to be reminded
for the next four weeks that you’ve spent
sixteen years healing from that fall—
from that terrible and painful break.

 

 

 

 

 

DeMaris
3-1-17

Photo credit: public domain

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