I am not accident prone. No broken bones for the first 63 years of my life, until I fell down some wet concrete stairs at school in 2011.
However, I have lived with many sisters who had many falls; I mean, many falls each.
As my sisters and college classmates and I have reached our seventieth year, we've had more and more incidents of falling. I actually wrote a blog about this a few years ago.
Anyway, here's a poem from my book How the Hand Behaves:
Accident Prone
See
the teeth of grinning Fate.
See
the ax before it falls.
The
mischance wins the throw,
and
she falls,
flattened
by her haste,
her
inattention.
Over
and over again
she
lies down before the unexpected ,
undesirable
event,
mischance,
contingency.
Like
a vole in the field lying open
to
the swooping hawk,
she’s
always surprised by the talons of the accidents.
Waves
of the Atlantic knock her down,
break her collar bone. Next, she
Falls
off the bike, leg with splinter of bone protruding .Next,she
Falls
on the icy playground, wrist bolted back together.
Through
the years,
Falls
on the church steps, funeral parlor entrance, front stoop,
Finally
a blood clot to the brain from a fall in the bathtub,
And
she’s safe.
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