Repair

Today oddly

it was my right ankle
that gave me pause.

Twice compromised,
twice healed,

each time more quickly than expected,

enough to baffle its caretakers.
Knit together with its own intent,
its own materials.

Why so efficient? 

Why not rest a while,

whimper for more attention?

Why not linger with the weakness,

just a bit of it, just in case?



Excuses are hard to come by,
and you never know when 

you might need one.

But emerging from pain

it finds itself still 

between a foot
that meets the earth with purpose
and a leg that bears the weight
of a plodding, demanding body. 

It is a passenger and a cog.

I suppose you could say
it really had no choice—
A single jewel in Indra’s net, 

no meaning without function.

And still it did choose—

with each microscopic thread
of new bone,
it chose to be 

rather than to sleep.