Friday, September 10, 2010


The leg is not what you thought it was.

No longer are you walking

to and fro the reconstructed

memories your mind wanders.

Well-lit corridors are a way

outside time, and their stations

hum with voices from around the world.

On your back, unmoving, day after day,

you begin to take apart

what remains of your person.

Someone else can have the sunglasses

and the wallet. The watch

needs a timer and a reset key.

On one side of the leg, doctors have pulled

skin together with stitches;

the other side’s fish-like design

is a graft taking hold.

An external fixator extends

from foot to hip and keeps in place

countless fractures.

The tree is a painful fact.

The body has been broken

by its puzzle: pieces of bone

that float in the sky.

You recall the brilliance of this sky

and that it did not let you fall asleep.


  1. Good morning. It's a transition weekend in Iowa. The weather has taken a turn for the cooler side and we saw the first soybeans harvested yesterday. Plants dried out earlier apparently because of the flood. Another contrast of expectations. Sam and I are going to a Hayes Carll concert tonight. He's a Texas singer who co-wrote the second song on Ray Wylie Hubbard's new cd. We are going with friends so it is a fun adventure. Justin Townes Earle's new cd is out on Tuesday and I am really looking forward to that (Robert Plant also has a new cd out that day.). If either is great I will buy you a copy and send it to you. Enjoy the brown cow, it my favorite yoghurt. Love, Tista

  2. read it on the blog- excellent!

  3. Beautiful poem. From Chico's the ending....
    "you recall the brilliance of this sky
    and that it did not let you fall asleep."

    Vivid. Gratitude. Surreal.

    Thank you for sharing. Still thinking and praying for you both.

  4. Love the poem, and both of you! Do you need help at the house to make ready for Chico's return? Let us know!