Remember that August,
your emergencies?
Her tooth pierced
your cheek in the pool.
A lacrosse stick slit
your eyebrow at camp.
Your head slammed
the ground, the swing’s
limb broke, you were
pumping so strong.
ER, three days in a row.
Birdlike, I hovered.
Stitches to mend
your cheek-hole, stitches
to knit your brow. Doctor
barked—what the hell
was the matter—with me—
for letting these harms
come to my son.
You asked me to sing—
Circle Game. Nurse,
a mother herself, told me
I have a nice voice.
This August, invasives
take the yard. I should cull-kill-
bag them. You untangled
a hummingbird. Wings caught
in cocklebur—drop of blood,
your fluttered palm.
