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A Subtle Wound

Photo by Veit Hammer on Unsplash

You left me
When my world was measured
In a child’s stride.
You had to go away for awhile,
I was told
To ease me in to the truth:
You were gone
And not returning.

It was involuntary, I know —
Your leaving —
But intent is not
Part of trauma’s calculus
So I was not spared
Though the wound went unnoticed:
There was no nervous response
Or reflexive recoil
As when you touch a hot pan.
It was subtle: no bleeding, no blistered flesh.
Just a change in routine
And one less setting at the table.



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Scott Edgar

Scott Edgar

father, desert explorer, poet, attorney Host of The Poet (delayed) podcast