When you’re injured, stuck at home, alone
And your whole world is your home,
You can stare blankly at the sky
Or listen for folks who pass by.
You can perhaps read a good book,
Or doze a while in cushioned nook…
Ring friends and recount your woes,
Or indeed, do none of those…
I broke my wrist, in half-light hall,
A nasty crack, a painful fall
Unexpected, in a rush
I missed my footing, hence this fuss!
I felt myself become a cropper;
Now I’m stitched up good and proper
With time on ‘hand’ to meditate
As my diary’s a clean slate!
My busy life reduced to nil,
As only one hand does my will
The other, bandaged to the hilt;
How life can change – with headlong tilt…
(c) Poet in the Woods 2024
Note: it's my left hand so I can still pen my liitle poems!!
Hope it mends quickly. Did the same myself 2 years ago, know your pain and frustration!
ReplyDelete