Who remembers last autumn?
I think of re-entering the burn
of the scar that lies across
your cheek, the perfectly straight
line from where the garage door
came down so hard, before we knew
the metal had rusted through.

You lay bleeding, as our town
paused in season & waited
for another Michigan game.
On the concrete your leg
curled towards the pain, wrapped
itself around my torso & freely
angled itself down the drive.

When the ambulance came nobody
said a word, the wind hushed
& what we came to find when
we returned was something
completely different.