I slipped in the tub on Saturday morning. I was in Seattle attending a 2-day medical meeting, and spent Friday night at a hotel. As I stepped into the tub for a shower, the bath mat slid out from underfoot, and I slid headfirst into the wall. I have a multicolored bruise at my forehead, that has leaked into the left eyelid. I’ve made two artsy photos of the stigmata so far. And wrote this poem.
I was reminded sharply
of danger, of throbbing, of sudden
death. Here is a lavender bruise,
here, a tender egg-bump on my fore-
head. At sixteen, I ran smack
into a concrete wall, chased
down the hall by my brother.
Just kids then. I have worn the years
of depression from that skull dent
with aplomb. Today, it’s nausea
and vertigo. A concussion? Today
I have curtly become an old lady. One
who slips. One who slips in the shower.