I took a trip and landed on the ground.
My left knee and my elbow felt the pain.
I must have moved too fast – that’s how I found
myself on old concrete. I saw the stain
of blood on jacket sleeve, and knew the sting
of laceration. Still, I rode the train
and powered on. I’d tend to everything
in time – I had a journey to maintain.

Within an hour I had cleaned the wound,
applied a bandage, washed the jacket sleeve.
It wasn’t till the evening I near-swooned
with left wrist pain too potent to believe.
In half a day my wrist no longer screamed –
I guess that whack was sharper than it seemed…