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Mid-leg Crisis
This is when it happens.
Rumors that my forebears had them.
They pick up the tai chi, yoga, the Bible and Buddha.
They buy the red car and believe they look cooler.
Instead of this I break in half.
Instead of this I have to laugh.
No luxury of broken ego.
Only healing high and low.
Mend, bend, spend, hello doctor.
I am now a fixer upper.
Plates and screws from the hardware.
Bone chips from someone, somewhere.
Still some healing.
No more bleeding.
Check my head and my heart.
Time for a brand new start.
(c) 2009 S. Sarkozy-Banoczy (Feb)
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