I have mentioned that I may be accident prone
And that honest, when all’s said and done,
To be constantly damaging extremities
On the whole, is not really much fun.
Last weekend was the toe, though it’s healed rather well
To be fair, there’s not really a scar.
Then the dog took me out for a run the next day
And believe me, I don’t run that far…
But a pheasant flew up and well, being a dog
Bred for birds, she just had to give chase…
With an out-of-breath owner careening along
On the leash at a pretty good pace.
Not for long, ‘cause I tripped and she came to a halt…
With disdain in her eyes, she looked back
At the tangled-up leash and the owner she’d left
In a heap at the side of the path.
But I came off unscathed, which was lucky, I know,
There I was thinking all would be well,
Then I went to my son’s and tripped over a shoe
By the door… and of course, then I fell.
Now there’s not much of me, not in terms of my height,
Though in girth… let’s not go there at all,
Let’s just say that I slammed myself, with all my weight
And I battered my arm on the wall.
Is it broken? I ask, Will it go black and blue?
Or swell up? I was feeling quite dumb.
…And I also felt ill, as the pain settled in
And my hand went uncomfortably numb.
‘You will just have to rest it,’ they said and I laughed
For there’s no chance of that, not a whit!
And I went back to doing what needs to be done,
Though I really was feeling like…unfit.
Am I accident prone, or just clumsy, I ask,
Or perhaps at my birth, I was hexed?
And that’s all in one week and it’s not over yet
And I’m wondering what will be next?