A Hand Up

A cattle trailer stops, my scooter swerves …
but not enough. Within a blink, my wrist
is shattered, zapping tendons, muscles, nerves
and ligaments—equipment sorely missed.
A hundred years ago, there would have been
two choices: cut it off or let it dangle,
a shriveled, lifeless paw. Now, skillful men
and women have the know-how to untangle
a royal mess. Through microsurgery,
the bones are reconstructed. Months and days
of exercise, massage and therapy
work wonders, proving optimism pays.

They gave a hand. I raise it as a sign
of readiness to serve. It’s God’s, not mine.



2009 Mary Boren
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