My “Post”: The Story of Stupid

Okay, it's not white, and it's not rod-iron. Pretend! Then put it beside the driveway of a house in a neighborhood, minus any semblance of an attached fence. Oh, and add trash cans. Close enough!

There once was a fence—a white rod-iron fence—

to keep big pines in from wandering the neighborhood,

or perhaps it was to keep cars out from trespassing the corner yard.

Didn’t work.

A car left a gaping hole in the yard’s mouth;

it stayed that way for months.  Years?

Fix it?  Okay.

Last week, it was laid as flat as a downed fence,

waiting . . . waiting.

This week, it was gone . . . all but one post,

one lonely post,

one malevolent post

ready to pounce.

A pounce post!

I rounded the corner on my bike,

dog on leash in tow.

Stupid to not have gone out in the street,

stupid, stupid.

Trash cans were holding a conversation with the lone post,

but keeping their distance,

plotting how to arrest those who ride on sidewalks

rather than on busy streets—maybe.

Or maybe talking about the weather.

“Incredible wind today, don’t ya think!”

In an instant,

in a miserable moment,

I rode between—stupid!

Stupid to not stop and walk—

stupid, stupid to navigate too narrow a space.

Bike went left, and

no fence,

so . . . dog went right, and

I went down

to the gutter with a thunk—

a slow, silent flying,

. . . a silent thunk,

a painful thunk—I think.

Stunned, shocked, still holding the leash,

a kind stranger helped me up,

walked my bike as I walked my dog.

Why was I walking?

Stupid, stupid.

Stupid to be painfully hunching my way

down the block,

the last ouching block.

Five hours in urgent care—I was urgent, they were not—

breathing as little as necessary,

avoiding pressing pain,

avoiding others’ virulent coughs,

avoiding the constant looping of a kid cartoon.

Cracked and bruised, painful shaking, then

home again, home again,

gasping with every bump

and to bed.

Vicodin is my friend.

There once was a fence, a white rod-iron fence,

a stupid fence!

About apronheadlilly

wife and mother, musician, composer / poet, teacher, and observer of the world, flawed Christ-follower
This entry was posted in Family, Humor, Photography, Poetry, Thoughts, Writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

18 Responses to My “Post”: The Story of Stupid

  1. Hope you’re doing better today Lilly! Happy Saturday.PKC

  2. “Pounce Post” just Brilliant ! Hope today is better for you.

  3. Christine says:

    I hate to LIKE something that caused you so much pain! However, I especially enjoyed your turn of phrase “I was urgent, they were not…” Isn’t that the way of some folks when you’re so critically injured?
    If you’re having joint pain or aggravated arthritis pain because of the injury, be sure to take glucosamine. Marvelous stuff. I’m going to do a post about it shortly. Best wishes for a speedy recovery.

    • I used to have a neighbor who was asthmatic. She would need to be seen to have a treatment, but to be sure she got in right away without waiting, she would run up and down the stairs till she could barely breathe. Well, that’s one method!

  4. raburcke says:

    Reblogged this on Ralphie´s Portal and commented:
    Lovely story by Lilly of the Apron, who almost last her head!

  5. Isla White says:

    Hi there, really enjoy reading your blogs they always make me smile. I have been doing a post for the Versatile Blogger Award Nominations and have nominated you as a potential candidate. If you are interested in taking part you can see the details on this link:

  6. Judy says:

    “One malevolent post”….. love that line. Your poem is wonderful, Lily.
    I do hope you feel better soon. And tell hubby NO JOKES. 😉 Take care.

  7. hope your fracture isn’t giving you too much pain by now… 🙂 it’s a lovely meadow over there. ^^

    mind to be a little more careful next time, ms. lily… regards and cheers, 🙂

  8. Reblogged this on A p r o n h e a d — Lilly and commented:

    I have been reminded of my breaking rib adventure recently. With all the coughing and sneezing thanks to the series of plagues I have had this winter, the area where my rib was cracked got all inflamed. Perhaps I loosened some adhesions or something. So not just the occasional weather event reminds me of my “stupid” episode.

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