you are the callus covered
splinter buried at the base
of my right index finger
I thought I could ignore
my way to immunity
from the dull pain
trapped beneath the surface
but two Saturdays ago
when I was walking past
the baker’s stall
at the farmers market
and she grasped my hand
to draw my attention
to the pain d’epis standing
like wheat stalks in a field
I was dismayed
to find that each press
of her palm into mine
produced a twinge
echoed in the center
of my chest

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s