The time my finger fell off (basically) | Teen Ink

The time my finger fell off (basically)

May 21, 2018
By mayaweismiller BRONZE, South Riding, Virginia
mayaweismiller BRONZE, South Riding, Virginia
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Riding my ferris wheel bike,
In circles around the sun
With a hundred spokes,
And all of them singing.

 

My mind shifts its matters
-- often -- very often -- it seems,
Sometimes,
to bounce all around me just like a
Rubber ball  --
From my bike and to the
Late evening sky

And, suddenly, without warning
just like that-
Caught in between the many spokes, spinning and screaming,
The tip of my stubby finger
- Like a carrot -
Snaps right off
And hops all the way
down down into
The dirt
 

I, scrambling, go to chase after it, writhing
To the ground
And next to a bed of iris flowers
Which are saturated from that morning’s generous dew

 

I, breathing heavy and quick!
Look up at the
Soft fields of clouds
Feel tiny hands of the grass
Tickle my back
It seems the world is beneath my downturned palms

 

So, then,
Smelling of dew and dirt and soaked in iris blossoms
My mother finds me
In this position of wonder
(also, coincidentally, in a situation in which
My stubby finger spurts a crimson fountain)

 

Her swails of concern and
Rains of ladybug bandaids
Carry me -- through the gathering crowd of *birthday party goers*
And to the milky-glass-marble-
kitchen-counter

 

And i sit here:
A clumsy child
Concerned only with dewy iris blooms
And ice cream cakes melting --
Oblivious to the more practical troubles that circulate her
Immediate radius
*it is a gold painted crown decorated with glass diamonds*

 

Though it’s true, glass diamonds are lighter than diamond diamonds.
and gold that is good gold would almost certainly tilt my head towards the
dirt —
and how i love to ride my skyscraping bike
and how i just despise things that dare to try and ground me

 

And it is true that
around me does radiate
a love that is so warmed
It *drips* down generations
And it is so purposefully driven -- and sturdy --
It bridges 90 miles from
cuba to miami
And from flesh to thread
From stigma to stem
And stem to
Dirt
 

It is true that my fingertip will be stitched back into
place
and true that love circles all around us
And therefore, through my
Toddler tears,
Which almost certainly  saturate iris petals
Light gleams



Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.