Sorry, friends: time
to turn back
the sign “Days since
injury:” — 0,
as hammer slams thumb.
Or there was a slip and fall.
The door,
in closing, made a bruise.
Life’s injury report
is a rainbow pattern in the flesh
from ex-veinous blood.
Stub a toe; reach for the high shelf,
there goes the neck;
we live and hurt ourselves.
Hurt others.
What the heck?
Some injuries won’t be seen
but, o!, are they felt.
Sorry, friends, that’s life.
You must
watch yourself.
—
Benjamin Harnett is a poet, fiction writer, historian, and digital engineer. His poetry has appeared recently in Poet Lore, Saranac Review, ENTROPY, and the Evansville Review. He is the author of the novel THE HAPPY VALLEY and the short story collection GIGANTIC. He lives in Cherry Valley, NY with his wife Toni and their collection of eccentric pets. He works for The New York Times.